


The Dragon's Revenge

by PersephonePenguin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fairy Tales, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 49,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephonePenguin/pseuds/PersephonePenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wall has long divided the Wyvern Isle in two. The inhabitants of the South have neither seen nor heard anything of those in the North for decades and have lived in comfortable peace. Solace Hunt lives with her father in the forest, her life is a happy one- until soldiers from the North disturb the quiet of their village.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wall Is Breached

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is an orginal work that I have had plotted out for a long time. It is partially written, but updates will be sloooow! My time at the computer is dreadfully limited, so if you are interested, hit the subscribe button because new chapters will be irregular.
> 
> The Dragon's Revenge is a tribute to fairy tales, in a way- there are themes woven into it that you may recognise! 
> 
> I am posting both prologue and first chapter together just to get the ball rolling. 
> 
> All of it is lamentably unbeta'd so mistakes are mine.
> 
> If you like it....
> 
> *drops to knees*
> 
> ...pleasepleaseplease let me know! :)

The South of the Wyvern Isle had enjoyed almost two centuries of happy, profitable peace. The common folk soon forgot that such a thing as war had ever plagued their land. The rich only remembered the great conflict through books and scrolls. Indeed, sometimes the soldiers at the outpost, who guarded the entrance to the North, felt that only they were aware of the possibility of danger beyond that great stone wall that divided the land in half. For many decades, the grey arch that was the sole entrance from the South to the North remained uncrossed. The guards pacing to and fro in front of it sometimes rolled their eyes at such unnecessary vigilance, but the constant marching made them feel marginally warmer and so did not grumble too loudly.

One morning, as the sun's rays just peaked over the tips of the snowy mountain beyond the wall, two tired foot soldiers met each others eyes in disbelief as they heard the distant sound of a horse's hooves coming from the northern mountain pass beyond the gateway. Minutes later, a great sweating snorting beast slowed to a walk at the command of its rider, who casually hailed the soldiers as though his appearance south of the wall was in no way remarkable. He reached into a leather satchel and waved a scroll.

‘Hold there fellows! I bear a message from the great King of the North to your Southern Benedictor. Stand aside and let me pass. I am unarmed and bear only the burden of my duty.’

Dumbly, the soldiers trembling hands fell from their sword hilts as they saw the truth of what the man claimed.

Cautiously, they waved him through. ‘Come then. The Benedictor resides in the City of the Ocean to the South. ‘Tis a three day journey if you ride your mount hard. Will you accept an escort?’

The rider raised a sandy brow and gave an unusually disarming grin. ‘To protect me from the wild beasts of the South, or to protect them from me?’ He laughed, ‘I thank you then fellow, find a steed and lead on! I must waste no time.’

It was a delay of some minutes before the guard had found a substitute to guard the gate. Securing a horse and his flabbergasted superior’s approval his journey. The two set off together, wasting little time and only spoke when slowing their mounts to give them rest. The soldier found the messenger to be a likeable, pleasant fellow and the two conversed amicably for a while. His burning curiosity remained unsatisfied however, as the sandy haired northerner would not be drawn into conversation regarding the reason for his coming, nor indeed the content of the scroll in his satchel. When Wellts, the soldier, had dared to ask directly, the other man’s mobile brow had gone up again and he had changed the conversation back to the landscape.

Three days later, an exhausted Wellts left Sam (for that was the stranger’s name) at the drawbridge of the largest city in the south. The man’s face did not display any particular awe at the sight of the city rising up like a jewel in front of a deep blue sea. Merely saying, when his opinion was sought, that it was ‘quite pretty’. Wellts pondered this as he made his (much slower) return back to the wall outpost. He wondered what sort of buildings in the north that the greatest city in his country earned such lukewarm praise. After returning to the outpost, little else was talked of for days afterwards. He found himself something of a popular figure, given that he must of course have some important information given that he spent three days with the mysterious figure on horseback. His celebrity waned considerably when he had to confess that he knew no more than they did, that the stranger had told them nothing at all about what existed beyond the wall and that they had, in fact talked more about the south of the Wyvern Isle than anything else. This was met with jeering comments about his lack of courage and only then did it occur to the man that he had been rather well manipulated into not asking awkward questions, this in turn made him feel rather foolish and consequently he opted to put the adventure out of his mind for the time being.

Two weeks to the day that the fellow had first ridden in through the arch, he rode back through it. Grim faced and unsmiling he presented the men with a document from the Benedictor himself, permitting him to pass unhindered. It was clear that whatever the man had come for, he had not received it and so now had to take ill tidings back to his master.

Whispers turned into murmurings and very soon afterwards extra men had been assigned to the post with the strict instruction that no one was to pass the wall in either direction. The soldiers took their orders with frowning faces and when, days later, word arrived that war had been declared between the North and the South, not one of the men was surprised.


	2. The Village In The Forest

Solace Hunt self-consciously checked, once again, that her hair was more or less in order before picking up her basket and ducking out of the dark cottage into the bright sunlight outside.. She breathed in the smells of her little garden, the gentle lavender was her favourite of all the plants and whimsically she snapped off a stem to slip into her basket. Her destination was the other side of the little village, to the butchers home. She hoped that the eldest boy, Jonas, was there. He had recently come back from an apprenticeship in Ocean City and had returned with so many new ideas, enthusiasm for change and a lurking merriment in his blue eyes that made Solace smile shyly back up at him.

Of course, Jonas Carver hadn’t paid her any particular attention, just an amused sort of tolerance for her mute admiration of him. She turned into a stammering fool when he spoke to her but he had been kind enough not to laugh, not like his sisters had anyway. She skirted around the back of the home of the healing woman- hoping that the sharp eared crone wouldn’t hear her footsteps. She had been avoiding the old lady since the month before since that excruciatingly embarrassing conversation about the personal health of a female. She supposed the mortification such bluntness was was slightly better the fear of _bleeding to death_ that had plagued her before speaking with the Widow Gannet.

Solace wrinkled her nose as she passed the cowman’s building and the blacksmiths as fast as she could. Her father thought that she was utterly nonsensical, but she was particular about cleanliness and unusually averse to the blood that seeped around the shallow gully out of the butchers. She had lived in this village, in the heart of the forest, all her life and yet simply could not overcome the sickness that rose up in her throat at the evidence of a slaughter. She wondered (if Jonas Carver ever did decide to marry her) whether or not she would be a bad wife. She could not give help in his father’s work after all, perhaps things were better left as they were- she could quietly continue to keep her father’s little home spick and span. She found such quiet happiness in keeping his garden and the bee hives.

Solace liked her life, she had known neither hunger nor violence and Father was as indulgent as his character would allow. He had a beastly temper when he spent too long in the tavern, but had never once directed it at his Solace. Her poor mother had passed away delivering her, he had wallowed in grief for weeks until a villager told him quite sharply that he had a daughter to think of now, and that the very least he ought to do would be to name her. He had looked at her properly then, he said- so tiny that it astounded him that Madam Gannett even thought she could live. He saw in the little nose and the shape of her mouth his dear wife, and had given grateful thanks that this little scrap of humanity could be his solace in the lonely years ahead of him.

Solace had grown into a timid little thing- brown haired, brown eyed and very like a songbird in her quick, nervous movements and delicacy. She was oddly maternal towards her father, making sure he ate enough of the food he brought home, mildly chiding him when he stamped muddy footprints across her clean floor but smiling at him so gently that he would mutely stoop to remove his boots and never responded as irritably as he might have done.

As she came to the doorway of the butcher’s, Solace called out to ask if anyone were home- Jonas Carver stepped into the sunlight, wiping his bloodied hands on a piece of towel. Solace wrinkled her nose slightly and he laughed at her.

‘Now little Solace! If we did not slaughter them and cut them up, you could not eat them...then you would be even smaller than you are and we should not see you at all.’ he smiled kindly at her, not at all offended. She obviously seemed such a child to him.

‘Yes, I know Jonas. You know I enjoy the eating of the meat, just as long as I don’t think too much about the poor animal it once was. Father told me that he had promised you some honey, in exchange for meat- so I have brought it to you. He is with Silverman now, so won’t be out from the tavern until later, I think.’

He reached for the basket and she couldn’t stop the slight blush as his hand touched hers, he mercifully ignored it. ‘Thank you- you have saved me a walk. I shall return the favour and deliver your meat to you at home so that you need not drag it along behind you when you return.’ Once again his bright eyes twinkled with infectious merriment at his own jest and Solace smiled up at him. His face sobered as he said ‘Your father may indeed be late home tonight, he’ll not be awash with ale though, Silverman has serious matters to discuss with him.’ He frowned, ‘More rumours come with every traveller to the village, an army from the North has come through the wall and already burned a town and forced many more villages into surrender. The rumours aren’t clear about what it is they want in exchange for peace- if the northern _Dragon King_ would even want peace at all that is. Silverman is asking the men of the village whether they think it best to surrender peaceably or attempt a fight which we cannot hope to win. I do not envy him that decision.’

Solace had been half listening, half admiring the way the dappled sunlight shone on his thick hair, but at his last words started slightly and said ‘do you think that soldiers will come here?’

‘I couldn’t say for certain. We are out of the way in this forest, we have nothing of value- so it is possible that they will head straight for Ocean City and ignore us.’ He paused and then continued, as if to himself ‘tis so strange though, the last fellow who came here told such strange tales of the Dragon King's face and manner- none of it makes any sense at all, unless he is looking for something specific. It doesn’t seem likely though...’ He stopped abruptly and cocked his head to the side as if listening intently. ‘Hark!’

His keen ears did not deceive him, soon others came out of their homes listening to what sounded like the thunder of horses hooves. The village Elder stepped out of the tavern with Solace’s father and looked towards the road that came from Edgeton. Solace held her breath, her heart beating violently in her chest as she first saw the dreaded army from the North sweep into her home.


	3. The Soldiers, The Maidens and the Escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have managed to get a little ahead and have 5 chapters written up, which means that I can actually attempt to edit just before I post. (No mean feat!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I am thoroughly enjoying writing this! 
> 
> If you do like it, please don't go all shy on me, encouragement is always lovely. :)

It seemed, to Solace, as though there were over hundred horses carrying their armoured riders, they slowed to an unsteady halt at the raised glove of their leader, who rode at the front of the battalion. The horses had clearly travelled far and been ridden hard, steam rose from their flanks and white froth foamed in their mouths.

Silverman stepped forward quickly when the commander of the Northern soldiers shouted gruffly, and in a harsh dialect, for the village elder. The men on horses had their weapons at the ready, awaiting a word, a hand signal or even a _look_ to begin an attack. They may have travelled far, but the men seemed to strain for action as much as their horses strained to be free of their constricting bridles. 

Solace stood behind Jonas who was listening as closely as he could to the quick exchange of words between Silverman and the commander. The two were not easily visible from their spot so close to the building. Jonas saw Silverman’s face show both surprise and outrage and then watched the Elder slump his shoulders in defeat. The commander's stance conveyed naught but a cruel insistence on capitulation.

Jonas, pale faced and horrified, whirled upon Solace. ‘Quick! unbind your hair and hitch up your skirts a little!’ She was too dumbstruck to comply so he begun to do it for her, it was only when his red hands went to the waist of her dress that she stepped back to do it herself. ‘Slouch a little Solace! You must pass for a child!’ His words were low, urgent and so confounding that Solace simply obeyed, taking- for good measure- her clogs off her feet.

Silverman had called for the attention of his people. By now, nearly everyone had come from their daily business to see what was amiss. ‘My friends. It is as many of us have feared, the North is no longer _content_ to live peaceably and separate from the South. These men come on the orders of the Dragon King himself, with instructions to burn the dwellings and kill the families of those who oppose his invasion.’ As he spoke, soldiers were fanning out all over the place, bringing out the few who hid inside their homes, emptying the tavern and separating the men from the women. ‘We cannot hope to prevail in battle against this army, should we do so... we will lose our homes, our livelihoods and our very lives ,much more than what we lose if we accede to their demands. I ask, my friends, that you cooperate peacefully with the commander’s orders, as I and my family shall do so.’ He looked mournful, and could not take his eyes from his daughters, who clutched at each other in fear as soldiers directed them to stand with the women in the empty space by the village well.

The commander stepped forward, a faint breeze blew and ruffled the grey fur that rested over his broad shoulders. When he spoke it was with a rough, throaty voice. ‘You have made a sensible decision, those who obey need not be harmed, those who cause trouble and offer resistance will be dealt with...painfully.’ He turned to address the cluster of women from atop his horse. ‘Women of the village! You will be divided into three groups- children, maidens and those who have withered and aged. If you have known a man, you will stand with the last group...if you have not yet bled for the first time...you belong with the children. If you belong to neither of these units you will stand next to the well.’

The men stood waiting, silently as this was accomplished. There was no murmuring, just dumb shock and the need to survive. The soldier’s swords were drawn and the points stood menacingly sharp- the eyes of the villagers were on the commander.

Solace went to stand with the children, the only person who could know that she had bled (just the once) was not paying attention to her. Widow Gannet was anxiously looking at her daughter standing with the maidens. Solace felt a twinge of fear as one soldier looked at her piercingly for a moment, as he was glancing over the groups, but then passed over her as he then continued on. She was neither tall nor womanly, it was not at all difficult hide herself among the bigger girls who were some years younger than she.

When the soldier approached his superior to signal that his instructions had been carried out, the commander lifted his arm again and a circle of soldiers surrounded the maidens with their swords out, many of them began to weep and wail in fright.

The commander lifted his voice again. ‘Silence! The maidens of this village are to be brought to the great warrior, Dragon King- who will very soon have brought the south to its knees with his strength and might. The rest of you...be grateful that your lives have been spared. I am stationing men along this road, should anyone attempt to leave this village without my permission, well...consider yourselves responsible for the death of one of these captives.’

As he spoke, the brother of one of the maidens being ushered towards a wagon, bolted forwards and drew steel against the man who dared take his sister. The commander did likewise and faced the youth, his sword drawn.

The two opponents could not have been more unlike each other. The commander was a swarthy giant of a man with a cold sneer on his face and the young man a fair haired and wiry sapling. The lad’s’ fighting was all impetuous fury and was sadly no match for the older man’s cold precision. It was over in a moment. A clash of steel, a disengage, a quick thrust deep into the boy’s stomach and he crumpled.

The commander withdrew his blade and wiped it on his victim’s shirt. He looked to his men. ‘Continue.’ There was emotion neither in his voice nor in face, and that was that. Solace watched, sickened, as the boy choked and spat out the bitter blood that now flooded his mouth.

The soldiers directed the maidens- there were eight altogether, into a wagon and set off back along the road. Not one villager moved until the horses were out of sight. After they had gone, pandemonium broke out. The boy’s mother was by his side in an instant, she threw herself to the ground and howled out her anguish, he could not survive the wound and drew his last breath in the same manner that he drew his first; within the circle of his mother’s loving arms.

Angry fathers and brothers ran to Silverman berating his cowardice and demanding that they follow the men to get their daughters back, he did not shrink from them but he did step back from his wife and the other mothers whose daughters had been taken. Widow Gannet was the most fearsome of them all as she wailed and promised retribution on every villager who had not fought tooth and nail for her girls. She cried all the horrors her daughters might face, not least from evil northern men who might fancy a bit of entertainment after a hard campaign. Bitterly, she fanned the flames of her own ire, whipping herself up into a great rage until her words were screamed at Silverman. Her passion was such that many of the men were soon offering to ride after the men and fight for them.

It was Solace’s father, the huntsman, who stopped it. He made himself heard above the shouting and wailing of the people ‘If you do that, then they will simply return to raze us to the ground, slaughter the rest of our children and take the girls anyway. We do not know what it is they want with the maids after all.’

Widow Gannet turned her fury on the huntsman. ‘Hunt! You _coward!_ Hiding behind the skirts of the innocent in order to have an easy life. Toad! Will you not even go after your own daughter?’ She caught his look of astonishment as his head involuntarily turned towards Solace standing with the children. Widow Gannet followed his gaze and was silent. A curious look crept over her face, half fury- half desperate hope. She turned and began to walk slowly along the road, the huntsman followed her.

Jonas Carver leapt forward. He had a strange, almost uncanny, perception of what the healing woman was going to do. He took Solace by the hand and dragged her to the butcher’s hut, he disappeared inside and returned, moments later, with a bundle and a basket. He then caught her hand again and took her around the back of the huts to her home and pushed her inside.

‘Solace. You must leave. Now- before they come back. Change into these clothes, they are old ones of mine that I outgrew years ago. Quickly, Solace!’ She stared at him, wide eyed at his urgency. 

‘Jonas! I don’t understand, go where? Why? For how long?’ He started throwing food into the basket as he answered her.

‘Because that Gannet woman has followed the soldiers to betray you! She hopes to get you back for her daughters, it will not work of course but they’ll come back for you regardless and _burn_ the village if they find you. She hasn’t a discreet bone in her body, she was in the tavern the night you thought you were dying and...’ he broke off and ran a hand through his thick hair, ‘I shall convince the others to say you don’t exist- that Widow Gannet has made it up out of desperation. Solace. Don’t just stand there! Get into those boys clothes and fly!’

She ducked into her small room and started to peel off her layers, as she did so she called out to her rescuer, ‘Jonas, Where will I go?’

He had been stooped down low finding a drinking bladder to go into the basket but at this he straightened and frowned in thought for a moment.

‘Jonas?’ Solace came out of the room in the dark colours of her borrowed garb, in the dim light of the cottage he could not make out her features properly, but he heard the naked fear in her voice.

‘To Ocean City. You must travel through the forest and keep away from the roads, Northern soldiers will capture you if you are seen, if that happens- say that you are a boy, a messenger if you like. Go to the city, ask for aid from the Benedictor for your home and the maidens of our village. Tell him that the soldiers came.’ He grabbed the bladder, filled it from a bucket and gestured for her to follow him out of the cottage. She spared a brief, agonized, glance at her home, hoping desperately that she would see it again, and soon.

Jonas led her around the back of the huntsman’s home and a little way into the forest, he drew up the cowl over her dark hair and looked her over, critically. Her face was white, her lower lip trembling and her eyes were big and round. Jonas grimaced, she did not look even remotely boyish as he took in her delicate features. She wouldn't fool a blind man. He sincerely hoped that he was not sending her to a certain death with this journey. She was such an appealing little thing, she brought out some great sense of maleness in him; an urge to protect her and see her safe. It would not do of course, he could not have married her. He was his father’s eldest son, he needed a wife who was hardy, who could carry heavy buckets and birth him strong sons- fragile little Solace could not be strong enough to rely upon.

He spoke quickly, telling her which direction to travel in and made the instructions as specific as he could make them- she listened carefully, eyes still wide. He reached into the basket and handed her the sharp pointed dagger he had found. He pressed it into her hand and said as gently as he could 'Dear, this journey may be difficult and dangerous, if you are in need of defending- this dagger may save your life. If you need to use it, no _don’t look so horrified_ , aim for the throat- don’t bother trying to get it into a heart, you haven’t the strength for it.’ He saw she was looking at the weapon in her hand with revulsion and added, ‘Well, I am sure it won’t come to that- stay off the road and hide if there is sight or sound of another person. Even southern folk, don’t trust anyone until you get to the City. I suppose this is farewell for now, little Solace.’

Solace finally lost the battle with her tears and began to sob, great big tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She choked out ‘th-thank you Jonas. Tell my father...tell him I will think of him all the time I am gone from him. Thank you so much for saving me, if...if you hadn’t been with me you might have been able to save your sisters.’

This thought had already occurred to him, even though he knew it an unlikely thing, guilt and the fear of facing his father’s anguish made him laugh harshly, saying ‘Yes. They took the roses and left the thorns.’ The wounded look on her face brought him no relief and only added to the guilt he felt at sending this girl on such a journey, alone. The thought, that her death may have been more assured had the Northerners taken her, did not help much. He went to turn turn on his heel and leave her when a thought crossed his mind.

‘Solace? There is one more thing before you go.’

Jonas knew full well that the huntsman's little daughter cared for him, what harm could there be in sending her to a probable death with a little happy memory, just to keep hope in her heart?

‘Wh-what is it?’

‘This.’ He gently grasped her shoulders and stooped to meet her lips with his, her eyes fluttered closed and for a moment she awkwardly put her hand on his shoulder. He broke the kiss and said roughly, ‘Farewell Solace, may God speed you on your way.’

With a gentle push, he put the basket in her hand and set her off in the right direction. He watched her stumble out of the clearing and into dark, thick forest, she seemed to pick up speed as she went and soon he could not make out her slight figure apart from the blur of the trees.


	4. The Journey, and the City by the Ocean.

Solace walked blindly for the first hour or so, her mind reeling with all that she had seen and felt. It seemed incredible to her that her life had been utterly changed within the space of a single afternoon. She tried very hard not to dwell on the fact that she may never see her dear father or little home again, whether it be from her demise or his. She was awash with unanswered questions that swept back and forth in her mind and never reaching an answer.

 

Why _had_ the soldiers come? No one had come from beyond the Wall for many, _many_ years, why come now? Why take the all the maidens? What were they going to do with them? She had heard tales of the brutality of the Northern people, old myths and legends that were repeated at the hearth of every home to frighten naughty children into behaving. Were they truly cannibals? Did the denizens of the north have a taste for young, fertile women? It was all too strange, she could not come to a sensible conclusion, every idea she did have centred around the terrifyingly sharp swords and the soldiers on horseback.

 

She spent a little while, as she trudged along, weeping for the poor boy who had been killed. It was the first time she had seen a person die, which was awful enough without thinking of the surprise on his face as the weapon went through his stomach. Solace hadn’t known Pip well, he had gone to the city with Jonas for an apprenticeship for a few years- she knew his sister better, who knew what would become of her now. His poor mother. It was so utterly tragic that he should have died before her.

 

A gentle rain started to fall as the sun’s light began to fade from the sky, she drew her cowl further over her head and properly looked about her for the first time. It was a nice forest, she had never come so far through it before, but she had always appreciated the grandeur of the trees. As a child she had spent hours lying down and staring up into the canopy of the trees, watching the birds flit from branch to branch. She used to imagine that the mighty oaks were the kindliest of the towering timbers, they after all, gave homes to such defenceless little creatures. It was a strange thought to come back to her after so long, but it encouraged her to seek shelter in the hollow of a withered oak and attempt to rest for a while. She was not at all hungry- felt sick at the thought of swallowing, even- but she sipped a little of the water Jonas had provided.

 

‘Oh Jonas!’ She whispered wonderingly, as she touched her lips with her fingertips. Speaking aloud made her feel less alone. ‘I wonder why he kissed me? Could he have fallen in love with me just as he realised he might never see me again? Perhaps if I manage to get help in the City, he will think me grown enough to marry when I return. He could build a little house for us on the edge of the village, I should keep it so nice for him- a roaring fire when he comes back from a day’s toil...’ She continued to make little plans for their happy future as darkness surrounded her and when she closed her eyes and huddled in further to the shelter of the oak, Solace imagined with all her might; a cosy cottage and her handsome husband whose eyes twinkled when he smiled at her.

 

Solace slept fitfully for a few hours, she was quite cold (but dry enough, thanks to the tree) and kept fearing some large animal might mistake her for its next meal, several times she heard a rustling nearby and clutched the dagger hilt that she had stuck in her boot. She wished to light a fire, but did not, frightened that it might give her away to any soldiers that could, even now, be searching for her. She could not rise and get warm through walking for she feared she might injure herself in the darkness. As dawn broke through the leafy shelter at last, Solace broke her fast with half a piece of bread. Jonas had told her it might take her as many as four days to reach the City by the Ocean and she did not want to run out of food too soon.

 

Setting off again, stiffly at first- for her poor body was aching, Solace looked for the thinning out of the trees and the edge of the wood. Beyond that, Jonas had said were the foothills of the Snow mountain, so called because it absolutely always had white tipping its peak, and beyond them the great grassy plains of the Sigil country that led down to the sea.

 

If she were to be asked about it later on, Solace would say that the days of walking from her village to an uncertain safety were arduous. Sometimes, she could only think of the misery in her heart and the aching of her feet and legs. Her stomach often pained her and her eyes were sore from constantly squinting against the cruel wind. She focused on every next step, sometimes struggling to remember how to put one foot in front of the other.

 

And yet, she saw such wonders! She had never before dreamed that she would see such a high mountain, or that she would feel such freedom when walking across the wide expanse of grassland with no other human being in sight. When she first caught sight of the ocean, she sat down in shocked awe. She wasted precious time just gazing at the vast expanse of beautiful sky, her view unhindered by the dark tree tops that she was accustomed to. Later on, she reflected that, although it was the hardest thing she had yet done in all her years, she could not regret that she had experienced such hard won freedom, it prepared her well for what was to come.

 

Solace took her second night of rest in a small Sigili hamlet. The inhabitants were astonished to see such a young girl alone and to hear her tale of how far she had come. When she told them of the soldiers arriving and the goings on in her village they thanked her for the prior warning and offered her a bed for the night, bidding her eat with them. A plump and hardy fisherman’s wife offered her a place to rest until morning. The weary girl accepted with very real gratitude, so very exhausted from walking; and fell into the little wooden cot by the fire with great relief. Solace was asleep within moments and did not even dream.

 

The next morning she bade the hospitable folk farewell, wished them well for whatever conflict might come for them and followed their directions to the City. A day’s walk took her as far as the mouth of the river which she waded across, searching for the shallowest parts with a rough staff that she had fashioned. As Solace pulled herself onto the river bank she looked up ahead and saw the sparkling white walls of Ocean city glimmering in the distance ahead of her. It was a welcome sight, but the light was fading fast and she needed to find shelter for the night. The land was too open, too dangerous, to lie under the stars and Solace walked quickly onwards hoping to find a likely spot. Eventually, it got so dark that she could barely make out the sea to her left- she had to stop where she was or disaster might fall. She crawled under the least sparse bush and lay down to rest. 

 

This night she did dream. Images whirled in her head of her father stuck through the stomach with a sword, of Jonas’ red hands covered with the blood of men instead meat. She dreamt that she fled to the ocean with the thundering of horses hooves behind her and that she fell to her knees and wept when Northern soldiers pointed their steely fingers and laid the blame of death at her feet. The tears from her eyes ran into rivers and there left her adrift on an ocean of her own miserable guilt.

 

The cawing of a flock of birds woke her with a start at sunrise and she sat up facing the water. The gentle light of dawn slowly swept away the starry sky and cast its pale pure beauty on a vast expanse of sea. For a moment, Solace was filled with contentment that she had seen such a sight. Even after such dreadful dreams... for a single moment, she was glad that she had come.

 

This moment of gladness did much to speed her flagging footsteps when she rose and ventured onward towards the city. She began to think less pessimistically as she progressed. ‘At least I do not have to fear that I am heading in the wrong direction any more!’ she murmured to herself, plodding onward.

 

Her revived spirits were soon to take a crushing blow, as she reached the top of the last hill between her and the Ocean City she also caught sight of what was beyond it. The City’s drawbridge was pulled up, soldiers watched anxiously from the battlements- their focus narrowed on the immense army laying siege to them.

 

Solace saw the men on horseback, the green pavilion tents and the streaming banners whipping proudly in the wind, all bearing the image of a black dragon, claws poised for battle and a royal crown upon its head.

 

Solace looked hard for a way into the city, she did not suppose that the drawbridge would be lowered for a lone female seeking refuge, besides it was quite possible that she would be intercepted as she approached the road leading up to the entrance. It was a seemingly impossible business. The strong city walls surrounded the place from the land side and met the equally impassable sea cliffs to its back. She saw, from her high vantage point, people taking a narrow path down the cliffs to the shore, trying to spear fish for their breakfast, no doubt. Her stomach rumbled at her and she sat to eat the last of her food as she thought.

 

It was possible, Solace supposed, to head down to the rocks from where she was and attempt to skirt around them into the natural harbour of the city. One wall jutted out into the water, it did not _look_ impassable. It would be difficult and she was under no illusions regarding her strength. Even when she was well rested it would be hard and she was tired from her journey which would weigh against her if she tried to negotiate those jagged crags.

 

She spent hours looking from that single harbour wall, to the sea, to the rocks and back again- trying to reach a decision...to find a less perilous way; but could see none. 

 

Finally, she heaved a sigh and weighed up her situation thus ‘I cannot go back home.’ She dashed away a tear at the very thought. ‘I cannot climb those walls, I cannot be seen by the Dragon King’s army but I can try to get into the city from the shore. I _must_ ’ It really was the only option. She got up, put her basket beneath a nearby shrub, readjusted the sharp dagger in her boot and made her way, stealthily, towards the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this and enjoying it, please let me know! It would make me so happy. :) 
> 
> I will continue to post regardless, of course, but you could really make a grown woman squee by leaving a comment.


	5. Peril and a little Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who are taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It was, indeed, a perilous journey. Jonas had been right about that at least, and it grew ever more dangerous as she approached its end.

Many times as she climbed down the jagged, razor-edged cliffs, Solace despaired of reaching the bottom safely. Yet how could she stop now? To climb back up was as risky as to continue on and even _should_ she make it, what lay in wait for her? The only option was to continue on, and hope that at some point she might stop feeling so afraid. 

Her hands bled by the time she reached the narrow strip of beach that led to the thick harbour wall. The waves crashed against the hewn stone with terrifying force. The water sprayed up as she neared it and soaked her through to the skin. Solace tasted salt in her mouth and felt it stinging her lacerated palms as she washed them in the water.

She looked ahead. One single white wall to skirt around with three faces to it, and then she would be nearer to safety. She pushed back the thought of the huge army at Ocean City’s far side. Solace thought of the message that Jonas had charged her with, of the friends he had in this place. If they were friends with Jonas, surely they must be good people who would take pity on the little scrap of humanity that had come so far, only to warn them too late. She would seek an audience with the Benedictor and beg his help for her home. Perhaps that vast Northern army would not be successful in their siege and would be wiped out by the great city’s defences. She knew nothing of these matters, but surely there was _some_ hope.

Solace edged nearer to the wall, now waist deep in icy water. She could not swim, _Jonas_ could...he and the other boys of the village had frolicked in ponds and streams as they pleased. She waded out as far as she dared, now gripping the wall, her fingers finding purchase in the gaps between the stones. She dragged herself further along it’s side, deeper into the sea. She shook with terror, knowing that she was now out of her depth and that if her bleeding, aching hands failed her now, she would surely die.

She rounded the corner, slowly moving along the last face of the wall till she reached the harbour. Suddenly, a wave came and crashed her against the rough rock. Agonizing pain blinded her sight and her hands slipped from the wall. 

She flailed, water filling her mouth and sheer panic filling her heart. Buffeted along, she, by sheer miracle, found a jutting stone to hold fast to. Catching her breath for a moment as the waves retreated she braced herself and flung herself as far as she could to the far corner of the harbor wall. Reaching it, Solace felt a moment’s triumph before the force of the water ripped her from the wall and carried her, half drowning, into the City harbour.

It was calmer here, the walls either side providing shelter from the angry torrent of the sea. She felt light headed and knew that she had lost much blood, not to mention that blow to the head. Curiously, she felt no pain, did that mean she was dying? The force of the wave carried her in as far as her shoulders and she did not wait for it to carry her back out again. She half jumped, half walked towards the shore until she was clear of the water and only then did she permit body to collapse on the sand into blissful oblivion.

She felt strong hands dragging her shoulders and another set at her legs. She knew she was alive by the pounding in her brain and the stinging of her hands. Someone, a man, was shouting indistinct words and she forced her eyes to open. Blurred faces loomed over her and strange voices rose ever louder. 

One voice, frail with age, silenced the others. 

‘Hush now, can ye not see the poor mite is half dead with pain? Lift her up, lads, and take her to the hut. _Then_ ye can be haring of to fetch the General, to tell him that the evil sod at the gates is now sending little girls to spy on us. Use yer head boy!’ 

There was something in what the old fisherman said, that Solace thought ought to have been hysterically funny, but her mind swirled about and all she could murmur was ‘Yes, yes. Thank you.’ Then she fainted again and heard no more.

What woke her was the pain in her hands, someone was pouring liquid on them that made them feel like they were on fire. Solace screamed.

A cultured voice spoke. ‘Well, she’s awake at least. Quiet girl, it’s done now. Nasty job of your hands, you did. Nasty blow to your head too, by what I can see. Here, have a little wine.’ 

Solace turned her head to see a middle aged man, with brown hair and a silvering beard reach forward with a cup. She sipped a little and felt somewhat revived. He spoke encouragingly, urging her to take more, but her throat felt raw and she could only take a small amount.

He sat back then and watched her as she sunk back into the pillow that had been put under her head, with great care he replaced the cup on a small table by where she lay. They seemed to be in a workman’s cottage, it was a single small room with a fire and various pieces of rope strewn about the place.

The man, who wore an armoured breastplate, gave her time to take stock of her surroundings. When her gaze returned to him he leant forward and spoke.

‘Now then, I’m going to have to ask you some questions. I realise you have been through an ordeal, the men were astounded when they saw you come from the other side of that wall. We were fairly certain you’d die...’ he said, then added gently, ‘but you seem to be a courageous young lass- if my suppositions are correct. What is your name, child?’

It didn’t occur to her to be anything but honest. ‘My name is Solace Hunt, sir. I am from the village in the forest, East of Edgeton. Soldiers from the North came to our village and took the maidens. I came through the woods, away from the roads. I was sent to seek aid, I was told to tell the Benedictor that we need aid. The Commander of the soldiers...he slaughtered Pip when he tried to stop him, it was awful...’ Solace sobbed. ‘Please help us. I saw the Northern army at the gates and so I came around the harbour wall. I was so frightened.’

The man’s expressions changed from astonishment to pity throughout her speech, ‘Oh my poor child. Solace,’ and he laid a hand on her arm, ‘you have been so brave. I cannot fathom that you have come so very far, and alone! I will speak to the Benedictor. I am General Barrot of the armies of the South. The shoremen thought you were a spy, and so came to fetch me.’ 

‘A spy?’ she repeated. ‘I am not! I wouldn’t...I’m just...’

He cut her off, seeing that she was distressed. ‘I know, I know, child. It is well. You are just a very brave, desperate girl.’ 

Her lip quivered. ‘I was not brave.’ admitted Solace. ‘I was terrified and crying nearly the whole time. I don’t like adventures, I never wanted one. I just wanted to stay at home with Father.’ 

‘Not brave?’ He tilted her chin up to him in a comforting, fatherly fashion. ‘My dear girl, if I had a dozen men in my army who displayed half the courage that you have shown, we’d not be in such a quandary about the siege on our fair city. Whatever happens, Solace...do not doubt your bravery. How old are you? I thought at first glance that you were of an age with my daughters, but by your manner of speech I suspect you are older.’

She told him, and he nodded. ‘Old enough to hear the truth from me then.’ He paused, considering his words. ‘I will speak to the Benedictor about what has happened. I will even tell him of your fortitude. You will rest here for now, untill you feel better. I will send my wife and daughter to make you comfortable, you deserve that, at least.’ He smiled a little sadly. ‘Young lady, I think it unlikely that our men will be sent to your village. We have our own battle to fight now, and we have not fought a war for many, many years. The Dragon King has warned that he will show no mercy. It...is not a battle that I think we can win. If this Northern warrior does not find what he seeks, he will likely raze every dwelling in the South.’

Solace gasped. 

‘Forgive me, my dear. I do not wish to give you false hope, only for it to be dashed when the inevitable happens.’

‘What does he want?’ She blurted, ‘If it is a price that can be paid...might not the Benedictor negotiate with him? If it were to save all our lives?’

Barrot looked at her steadily for a long moment and she flushed. ‘Ah! Well now, the ways of diplomacy are not for you and I to ponder. I am simply a soldier, I take orders from above and give them to those below...and you, little one, are just a remarkable young woman who will doubtless cheer us all in these difficult times.’

Solace, embarrassed by his kind reproach, nodded.

The General stood then, and left the hut. Solace was left alone to sleep. She woke every now and then, sometimes taking food that was left on the little table and always drinking from the cup of wine. When she woke to find a tall, willowy lady bustling about the hut she felt much more rested and the pain in her head was much reduced. She saw that the shutters had been closed and a candle lit and asked what time of day or night it was, having no notion from the little light that spilled under the rickety door.

The woman grinned at her, with good humour. ‘Aye, you've slept a day and a night away now lass, and the sun will rise in another hour or so. I'm General Barrot’s wife, Grace. He asked me to look in on you. You had a bit of fever until last evening, but it broke when I said it would and we’ll soon have you on the mend.’

Madam Barrot had obviously been sweeping out the fireplace and picked up the full pot of ashes with little effort, carrying them to the door. Solace felt her usual stab of inadequacy at seeing the effortless strength that everyone but her seemed to have.

She had always been a weak little thing, a sparrow, her father called her. _She_ could not simply pick up a heavy bucket like that and take it outside. No; for her, sweeping the hearth was a job that took many short journeys back and forth- it was a matter of frustration, that her body was less able than all the other girls the same age. She so longed to be useful, to be admired for her hardiness and not pitied for her small stature and childish frame.

The good lady bustled about the room, tidying and making things more comfortable. As she did so, she chattered away, imparting all she knew of the situation with the war with the North.

'The scholars and diplomats have been scrambling to the library, searching hard for any information about the folk beyond the wall- anything that might prove useful. The Benedictor is fast losing patience, all they've found are fairy tales and myths. The General advised him against this war, when the King sent his messenger down. His Excellency wouldn't say what they want with the maidens, just that the King's demands are too high. Can't see anyway to win, myself. We Southerners aren't cut out for fighting, hardy as we may be. But the Northern army isn't interested in negotiation, they want everything.' 

She pulled out a canvas bag and set it at the foot of Solace's bed. 

'There's a fresh change of clothes in there for you, you are much the same size as my eldest daughter, though perhaps she may have a little more height about her. Your boy's raiment is ruined, full of holes- whether from the rocks on the sea wall or whatever dreadful situations you were in on your journey...my husband told me how far you'd come. No wonder you look so done in, it's a wonder you aren't dead of exhaustion- a little thing like you!'

Solace, grateful for the woman's care, pulled out a soft brown woollen dress and robe from the bag and dived beneath the blanket to put them on. When she stood, she was a little shaky and nearly tripped on the extra material of the dress that pooled at her feet.

Madam Barrot chuckled. 'Easy now, child. One step at a time, hold on to me. There now, looks like my Cassie is taller than I thought, eh?'

Solace reached for a girdle and looped it about her waist, folding a little of the robe over it. It served its purpose and she found that she could move her feet less obstruction. She gritted her teeth, clutching hold of the lady, who was as steady as a rock, and made her way to a little seat at the window. 

Madam Barrot nodded approvingly. 'You've got enough gumption, lass. Best thing for you is to get moving. No reason to let injuries fester.' She nodded to her bandaged hands and added. 'The salt water cleansed those cuts nicely, I'd not fancy the stinging myself, if you take care not to reopen them, they'll heal up soon enough.'

Solace sat at the window and looked out to the blue sea. Shoremen had waded out into the harbour to catch fish and sea birds circled overhead them. It looked so calm and peaceful this morning, with the sunlight shining brightly on the water. Incredible to think that such beauty could have nearly killed her with its force. She shuddered.

The General's wife set a bowl of cooked oats in her lap and bade her eat. Solace turned her back to the ocean. 

Once she had eaten, Solace answered the other woman's questions and asked a few of her own. Her main concern was the likelihood of being taken captive by the soldiers that lay siege to Ocean City.

Grace Barrot, like her husband, did not make empty promises to reassure her. 'It depends on how long our food supplies last. We have enough fish from the harbour, but those stocks won't last for ever. If we cannot get out to the farmland outside the walls they'll starve us into surrender within a month. It's a big city, lots of mouths to feed, plenty of ways for disease to spread, too, if we can't bury our dead beyond the gates. It's a bad situation. The messengers that come back...they tremble with fear from the sight of the Dragon King. The Benedictor sent out a battalion of soldiers a few days back. Every one of them died. That army outside, it isn't merely for show. The General is in council now.'

Solace nodded dumbly. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision and the other woman patted her shoulder in comfort. 

'All we can do is wait. Wait and pray, little lass. There may be hope yet, it's possible that a miracle may save us all yet, same way a miracle got you into this city.'


	6. The Dragon King

The streets were packed with people, crowds pressing against each other, hungry for fresh food but hungrier yet for _news_. 

There had been no official announcement, no herald had stood outside the Benedictor's residence and sung out the happenings of diplomacy but somehow, every man, woman and child knew that a messenger had been sent out, over the drawbridge, under the flag of truce and that he was on his way back at this very moment.

When the trembling fellow came back through the gates, having come from an audience with the Dragon King himself he said not a word to the General, who stood by to escort him to the Benedictor. He clutched in his hand a scroll and would not, or perhaps _could_ not, relinquish it. 

Solace saw all of this, standing beside Madam Barrot and her young daughters; Cassie and Flinder. Later that evening, the General came home weary and wan. They sat in silence around him as he ate his supper silently and Solace watched attentively to his needs. In two weeks the girl had grown deeply fond of the Barrot family- for they had taken her into their home in uncertain times, nursing her back to health and she would do _anything_ she could to improve their lives. Solace poured the General out a measure of drink, so carefully rationed out, as was all food and drink in Ocean City in these days.

After supper, Cassie and Flinder kissed their father good night and went off to bed. Solace remained, quietly wiping down the table and laying additional logs on the fire. They too was rationed, but Solace had taken care with the logs from her own little hearth and did not begrudge this kind man a good fire when he returned home.

Barrot took his wife by the hand and held her close for a moment.

'The Benedictor sent out a messenger this morning to parley with the Northern army. The man returned with his tongue cut out and a scroll _indicating_ that only utter surrender to his previous demands would save the city from certain destruction. The Benedictor has ordered the white flag to be hung from the battlements at sunrise tomorrow. We have...we have this night of freedom left.'

He looked to Solace who stood by listening to every word, he looked so sad- she wished wholeheartedly that she could offer comfort.

'When they came to our village, General. They only took the maidens who...who had _bled_. Not the children, and not the older women.' She said quickly, glancing at Madam Barrot. Solace tried a tremulous smile. 'Perhaps they will not take anyone from your family. I will pray that it is so.'

Madam Barrot looked up, tremulously hopeful, from her place in her husbands arms. 'Will they take you, Solace?' She asked evenly.

Solace blushed scarlet and managed a mortified nod. 'I stood with the children last time. It was Jonas' idea, only the healing woman knew.'

'You were aptly named, my dear.' said the General unexpectedly. 'We do not know what tomorrow will bring. We should enjoy what freedom we have left. Hide what is precious to you, and to our daughters, my love.' he murmured to his wife. 'We must concentrate on _surviving_ , when tomorrow comes.'

Solace did not sleep that night. For some of the time her eyes were fixed on the moon, making its way across the starry night sky. She swept and polished, preparing a small breakfast as the first rays of sunlight shone faintly through the leaded panes.

The family rose and joined hands together before breaking their fast. The General kissed his wife and children before laying a gentle hand on Solace's shoulder, silently leaving his once happy little home. Perhaps for the last time.

The children wept, Solace and Madam Barrot comforted them as best they could before waiting for the herald’s bell, calling assembly in the great plaza in front of the Benedictor's mansion.

They waited, and they waited. Noon passed with no sound, the city was eerily quiet. Perhaps the rest of the citizens chose to spend time quietly with their families also? Solace ached for her dear father in the silence, she whispered blessings on his name unceasingly in those dark hours. 

Some two hours after the sun was at its highest they heard the steady march of soldier's feet on the winding city streets. Solace peeped through the closed shutters. The General's home was situated on the main, widest road in the city. She saw the dragon banners first, held high in the air by heavy set, cloaked men. At the front of the procession rode a heavily armoured man on a black horse. His crowned helm covered his face, and as he passed the house she saw that thick gloves covered his hands. Not an inch of the man was visible. Given the wild rumours that had flown about, Solace wondered if he was terribly deformed or terribly afraid of an assassination attempt.

She watched them from the highest room in the house, a goodly distance from them, as they fanned out through the city. The Dragon King’s immense horse halted in front of the City Hall and he smoothly dismounted. The Benedictor came out from within, dignified in blue velvet robes and bowed low. 

A trumpet sounded. She did not need to be told what it meant. Reaching for a cloak and Jonas’ dagger she made her way down the stairs. 

They walked out together, through the door to the now busystreets, slowly making their way to the plaza. She held fast to Flinder's hand and walked close behind Madam Barrot.

The Benedictor stood at the top of the steps, the Dragon King still in full armor beside him, sword in its sheath by his side. The blue robed man lifted his hand for silence, it was unnecessary- no one made a sound.

'Citizens!’ He sounded old. ‘ I hereby, on behalf of our city, offer unconditional surrender to the forces of the North. I... ask that you do not resist this, our captors are quite clear that to fight them will result in .' He hesitated, lifting his nervous fingers to his brow, wiping the sweat from it. He chanced a glance to the tall, silent figure at his side and hurried to continue when the King put a threatening hand to the hilt of his weapon.

'Men of this city, depart to the south wall- if you please. Women and children remain here.'

A list of orders were called out to the women left standing. As in the forest three groups were formed. Solace stood this time with the other maidens; there was a long line of them, all waiting and wondering what was to become of them. She had seriously considered attempting, once again, to pass herself off as a child, but it was the mirrored glass in her bedchamber that convinced her not to. Slight and childishly built she may yet be, but her journeys and trials had altered her face- it was the countenance of a young woman, now and one who had known hardship, at that.

The line ran from one corner of the great plaza to another, Solace stood about thirty maidens in from the beginning of the queue. The Dragon King removed one of his thick gloves. Soldiers stood some little distance away, blocking each of the four exits to the square. Beginning with the maiden nearest to him, the armoured man lightly touched each of them in turn. Solace, too afraid to be curious, kept her eyes on the floor, trying to will herself invisible as possible. She watched, surreptitiously as the crowned Northern invader came closer and closer. The silence was deafening and broken only by the sounds of terror coming from the women he passed. Solace herself could barely breathe, hearing her heart hammering in her ears, keeping time with the measured, unhurried tread of this terrifying warmonger. He was ten maidens away when she got a good look at what was making the women he touched whimper in fright. 

He did not have the hand of a man, but that of a monster. Green pearlescent scales glinted in the sunlight, where mortal skin ought to have been. Golden talons, thick and wickedly sharp edged the tips of his fingers, where nails should have grown. Close to his wrist stuck out an extra tallon, curving slightly, like that on the paw of a dog.

Solace raised her head, disbelieving her own eyes and stared. His step quickened and he bypassed the last five maidens before her. She forced her head down once more, but it was too late for that. That same, horrible claw came up and lightly touched the soft skin beneath her chin. 

Fear kept her routed to the spot, disgust wrenched her head up in an attempt to evade his touch. It was all in vain. The creature, for man he could not possibly be called, followed her movement and cupped her face. It was intimate, it was invasive, and to Solace it was in every way dreadful.

A soft hiss escaped him and he let his hand fall from her. Solace held her breath, waiting for him to move on. He did not move, she felt his eyes on her from behind the lowered visor of his helmet. 

He raised his gloved arm, bent at the elbow and a soldier came running. 

'Your Majesty?' He asked, in a respectful accented voice.

The King did not turn away from Solace. 'Send the other maidens home. I have found that whichI seek.' And with that triumphant murmur, his awful _scaled claw_ seized Solace's wrist and tugged her along with him towards the City Hall. 

She started to scream. Wordless pleas, unarticulated begging. Mindless terror. 

Her feet would not move and when she stumbled, the grip on her wrist was unyielding- the Dragon King half dragged her up the smooth, shallow steps and into the empty building. The door shut behind them and he released her suddenly.They were alone.

She fell in a heap on the floor, stumbling backwards and falling silent in horrified fascination as his raised his claw to remove his helmet.

His _face_. It ought to have been the face of a man and was even recognizable as such, but green and gold scales covered it. She could not look at him, and buried her face in her skirts- sobbing.

'What is your name?' He asked. His accent was clipped and harsh, but not indecipherable.

She tried to answer him, but could barely remember how form words, such was her fright. Surely such beasts as this one did not exist! How could he look so dreadfully inhuman and yet walk and even _talk_ as a man?

She heard his footsteps approach when she sprawled on the floor, the nail in his heeled boots clanging and echoing loudly in the empty council chamber. 

'What is your name?' he repeated, carefully enunciating each word. She fisted her hands in the thick wool of her skirt and, still keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, gulped and sniffed.

'Solace.' she whimpered, when he crouched down next to her and squatted on the heels of his boots.

She stiffened and kept very, very still when the monster slowly, as if approaching a skittish colt, lifted his gloved hand and and stroked her hair.

'Solace.' he said, his voice a soft, sibilant hiss. 'I am Vladilen.'

There was a scratching at the door and Solace jumped and scooted back, away from him. Vladilen did not move, did not turn his head from her but his voice was ice when he spoke.

'Come!' he commanded, and a soldier stepped through the door.

'All of the women have been sent away, my King. The men are assembled in the square. Shall we kill them?'

Solace looked, wide eyed and dismayed towards the soldier. The light shone in behind him, casting his features in shadow. It did not matter what he looked like, he wore the Dragon insignia of King Vladilen. 

She thought of the General who had done so much for her felt sick. His wife would grieve, his children would mourn and she herself would weep for him. How could this Northern soldier enquire so calmly whether or not to take the life of such a good man? Had he no compassion in his heart? Had he heart at all?

The King still crouched near to her, watching intently.

'Not yet.' He said. 'Send them home, for now. Issue a curfew, kill anyone who leaves their house. Bring the Benedictor to me, now. Go.'

'Yes, your Majesty.' bowed the man, and exited.

'I have been looking for you, Solace.' he murmured, when the door closed behind the soldier. 'It is the reason I crossed the border into the South.' He reached for her hair again, but paused when she flinched away. 'Ah.' and his voice turned arctic. 'I disgust the lady. It is a pity.'

He stood to full height again, towering over her as she cowered on the floor. He moved a little distance away and Solace felt able to look up at his retreating back.

'I don't know who you were looking for, but I am not she.' she said, trying for bravery.

He neither turned nor answered.

There was another knock at the door. 

'Come!' called out the monster once again, and in stepped the guard and the Benedictor.

Solace scrambled off the floor and attempted a wobbly curtsey in his direction. The Dragon King turned and watched her, his back to the entrance.

'The spoils of war go to the victor.' said the Dragon King. 'I accept your surrender. In exchange for your lives, and for generously refraining from destroying your city to its very foundations, I demand tribute of a quarter of your profits for the next century. My army will retreat to the North, you will continue on as usual with the exception that should you fail to offer tribute every year, my army will return and not cease in its slaughter till every last man woman and child in the South is dead.' Solace looked at the pinched, white face of the Ruler of the South. The Benedictor wrung his hands, eyes squinting at the King’s face.

'Your terms are generous. If the lives of my people can be spared...'

The Dragon King turned on the spot, and interrupted him. Ignoring the horrified gasp of the Benedictor. 'They are not your people, they are now mine. I can kill them, enslave them or leave them to rot as I please. It is fortunate for you that I have no interest in any of your puny lives,' he paused and pointed a talon towards Solace, 'save hers. I will take her with me back to the North.’

The Benedictor tore his eyes from the face of the monster, to look at the girl who stood in the corner who clutched the back of an ornately carved chair.

'She's just a child...' he said, involuntarily.

'Not so, she has _bled_. She is marriageable.' The King, Vladilen, almost sneered the word.

The Benedictor looked at Solace with pity. 'One life, to save many.' He mumbled, adding more clearly. 'Forgive me, lady. I cannot, in good conscience send countless men to their deaths when the life of one girl will end this.'

Solace stared at him, sickened. He really would hand her over to a scaled beast. Distantly, she understood his position. He was acting to save the most lives that he could. She could not, glancing fearfully at the looming figure of the beast, find it in herself to appreciate the difficulty of his position, not when hers was untenable.

Shaking her head, she crossed rapidly to the Benedictor and dropped to her knees. 

'Please. Your Excellency. _please_ , oh do not let him take me, he is a monster.' She whispered urgently. 'I have lived with the General these past days, he believes you to be a _good_ man. What will this creature do to me? Am I his next meal? Please help me!'

The Benedictor patted her shoulder awkwardly. 'You would have me condemn them to death? The General, who sings praises of your courage, _he_ will die if you do not. What will you have me say to him? That his wife and _children_ must be without him because you are not so brave as he has said you are...'

Solace dashed away her tears. 'I would lay down my life gladly for the Barrots’, they... they have been so good to me. It is what this Northern beast might do to me whilst I am alive that sends me rigid with fear. I would rather die than...' She broke off, an idea striking her. She had put Jonas' dagger in her boot every single morning as she rose, she smiled each time she did so, thinking fondly of him and those blue eyes that smiled down at her.

'I have a dagger in my boot.' she whispered. 'If it is truly a case of my life for theirs, will you have mercy on me and kill me now? Let me at least chose the manner of my death.'

The Benedictor, who was a politician, had never handled a weapon in his life and found himself sweating slightly at the thought of heroically rescuing this fragile young woman from the clutches of the ruthless Dragon King. Of course, it was not rescue as such, but if... if it was what she asked for...

He shook his head at the thought. He could not. He didn't know what the King of the mysterious North wanted with this girl, but he knew enough about him that he would get it, or the consequences would surely be dire.

Solace saw the moment the Benedictor would not aid her and set her chin. If he would not, then she would. 

Perhaps there was courage to be found in this hysterical desperation, in this hopelessness.

Closing her eyes, she groped in the top of her boot for the blade. She thought of her father, of the village and Jonas' smile. By the time she had a good purchase on the hilt of the dagger, she thought of how icy cold that smooth claw had felt on her skin. 

It was a moment. A single moment that would bring the dagger up to her neck and then take her from life to death.

It was impossible that he had known what she had herself decided only just now. It was equally impossible that such a large man could move across the room as fast as he did.

The blade had barely touched her neck before the claw, the hand of the King grasped it and turned it, inexorably, away from her.

He held her hand about the hilt and, looking her directly in the eye crushed the metal blade between his fingers.

'Saddle my horse.' he rapped out to the soldiers. 'We leave tonight. Find a horse for the lady and tether it to mine. She isn't to leave my sight.' Solace heard a man answer and leave. The Benedictor fell back at a vicious backhanded blow from the King. 

She was lifted, feeling empty and exhausted, against the cold breastplate he wore at his chest. She tried to struggle away but he tightened his grip when she attempted it. She soon gave up wriggling, her strength running out before her spirit did. 

She was lifted high onto a white horse and gripped the pommel as well as she could. Vladilen mounted his own animal and at a kick to its flanks, they moved forward. 

As they passed the Barrott’s home, she looked to the highest window that she had sat at earlier in the day. She could make out the silhouette of the the family, a candle had been lit behind them. One of the girls waved her handkerchief and Solace raised a white hand in farewell.

Solace kept her eyes on them, twisted awkwardly in the saddle, for as long as she could, her heart breaking a little for herself, even as she was glad that _they_ would be together and alive.

She would never see them again.


	7. The Rest and Intentions

It was one days hard ride to Edgeton from Ocean City and by the time darkness fell on the travellers, they had reached the higher ground that were the foothills of the great Snow Mountain. 

Vladilen Rutaxis did not speak at all on the journey but led his army, and Solace, at a punishing pace. The King allowed no time for rest, and Solace was left to hold on as best she could to the rise of her saddle and be grateful that she was not required to steer the animal, she was certain that to have done so would use strength that she simply did not have left. 

By the time dusk fell, the tents had been set up and campfires had been lit. Solace had been escorted to the largest pavillion and left to squirm under the steady, hooded gaze of her captor. 

He had, apparently, been perfectly serious about not letting her out of his sight. Since her failed attempt to take her own life, her wrists had been tied tightly behind her back whenever she was not on a horse. Solace did not quite know how she was supposed to do herself an injury in a tent with naught but soft blankets and sheepskins for sleeping strewn about. 

She had sunk down gratefully onto one of the soft white skins and relaxed into the comfort of it. Solace had never even sat on a horse before today and her entire body was aching and sore. Regardless of her hands being bound, she lay down and closed her eyes.

She awoke during the night, to an aching agony throughout her body. The tightness in her muscles vied for her attention over the pressure in her bladder and hunger in her belly. Her bonds had been cut at some point and she was now free to use her hands to push herself up to standing.

Looking about the tent, which was lit by a single lantern, she saw the King watching her from his own sleeping pad of dark furs. He lay with his head propped up on his wrist and in the dim light of the tent, looked less of a monster and more human than Solace would have thought possible- having seen the full horror of his face in broad daylight. 

Her eye briefly caught his and he rose up. He had discarded his armour and wore a robe in a muted that Solace could not distinguish in the dark. She pushed away the warm blanket that was wrapped about her shoulders and winced as she twisted.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. He had not taken his eyes off her the whole time. He said nothing, only pausing slightly in his stride towards her. Solace shivered, and it was not entirely due to the cold.

'I need...' How did a captive ask for privacy in order to relieve themselves? It was not a question that Solace had ever supposed she would have to ponder. How far away, how distant, was her happy life she had lived with her father! 'Is there a private place that I can use... your majesty?' Her throat was raw and it puzzled her until she remembered her screams earlier that day, from fear of the man standing so silently in front of her. She added on the honorific as an afterthought, she had no power here- flattery might well ease her wretched life for however long it might be.

He did not reply, only gestured with a talon that glimmered in the lamplight, toward the corner of the tent where a small clay pot lay. Solace felt heat rise up from her neck. 'Will you grant me privacy to use it?' She tried. 

He looked at her steadily. 'Have you honor, Solace? _If_ I leave this tent will you swear that you will not try to take your life? If you will not take a solemn oath, you will have to make do with my turned back.' 

She hesitated for only a moment, before nodding. Her need was becoming increasingly urgent. 

'A nod will not do, Mistress. I will have your word of honor that you will not die by your own hand.' Here was a King used to obedience, his tone was implacable.

Solace grimaced as she hobbled over to the pot. It was empty and she was glad of it. She did not think she could have borne evidence that he had used it before her. Her mind, as it must returned to the questions that had been swirling, like bees, in her mind. What purpose did he have in forbidding her her choice of death? Was there some foul ritual to be performed with her blood in the wild North? Whatever it was he wanted with her, she did not care to ask.

'Very. well, I shall not attempt it. I promise.'

He nodded and stepped towards the flap that served as an entrance. 'There are two guards without, do not try to run.'

_Run?_ She thought hysterically, how could she run? And wither? Solace whimpered as she forced her body to crouch.

Having had one necessity taken care of, Solace felt a little calmer. One moment at a time, and she may emerge from this horror with some dignity intact. She recovered the clay pot with it’s lid and stiffly approached the flap, intending to empty it in a nearby bush. 

As she lifted the heavy canvas, two swords were drawn and thrust menacingly in her direction. The Dragon King, Vladilen was not to be seen. She did not see the faces of the men who so threatened her, she only thought of poor Pip whose blood had covered a blade such as these.

She would not die by her hand.

Closing her eyes she pushed her body forward, towards the blade. They were lowered instantly and the men bearing them stepped back, confused. Perhaps not today, then. Solace nodded her head towards the brown pot in her hands, it was already growing heavy to bear.

‘I merely wished to empty this,’ she said, clearly, as calmly as she could. ‘I was not trying to run.’

One of the men, glancing balefully at his fellow guard, stepped forward and offered to take it for her. Solace, reddening once again, shook her head so emphatically that the hardened soldier almost smiled. Reaching for a flaming torch he nodded to his fellow and moved from his post.

‘If you will follow me then, Mistress.’ He led her a short way off, away from the tents, to a rough pit that had been dug for such necessities. He carefully held the torch aloft so that she had sufficient light to complete her task. She could hear the indistinguishable thrumming of the soldier’s voices. What did an army do when it was not fighting? Judging by the smells of roasting flesh that wafted towards her, they ate like normal men. Emptying and wiping the pot with a wad of moss was soon done, the inevitable could not be delayed forever after all, and Solace set her pace ahead of the guard on the return to the tent. 

Her captor had returned in her absence and had lit another lantern. The additional light reminded Solace of how hideous, how alien his features were and she turned her face away. 

‘There is food, if you hunger.’ he said abruptly, and speared a piece of dried fish with his claw- offering it to her. Solace looked at the claw and shook her head, dumbly. Reaching past him, she took a loaf and methodically broke it, lifting it to her lips.

She ate it in silence, fully aware that his eyes were on her, having to force every swallow- her mouth feeling dry and her stomach constricted. She could not fathom why he troubled himself with her hunger, perhaps they preferred plump virgin sacrifices in the North. It was a possibility, and catching sight of his strange scaled hide out of the corner of her eye, she could well believe it.

When she had eaten as much as she could she leant back, away from the food, he moved across the room to sit beside her. Solace sat stiffly and tried shrunk back a little, averting her eyes.

'Tell me, Solace, why you are so eager to die.' He said quietly, 'my men, without, tell me that you would have walked onto their drawn swords. That either speaks of reckless bravery or, as I suspect, fear of something worse.'

Solace pressed her mouth closed and shook her head. Even speaking gently as he did now, she shuddered.There was something hissing and sinister about his voice and coupled with the clawed, scaled hand that she saw from the corner of her vision she could not but help think of a snake. 

'I have not harmed you. Neither have my guards. Am I so fearsome, so dreadful, that you would die before coming with me- even though it will make you Queen?'

Solace, astonished turned her head in her surprise and just as quickly turned it back away from him when she realised his face was uncomfortably close. She looked instead at her hands, they were scarred across the palms, livid and red still. He smelt of the smoky wood of a fire. 

She cleared her throat nervously, but even then her words were rasped and barely audible. 'Queen? I don't understand.'

A heavy hand was placed on her shoulder, the width of it as wide as her shoulder. 'Did I not say that you are marriageable to your Benedictor? What did you think I wanted with you?' Solace pressed her mouth into a tight line, saying nothing and visibly trembled under the weight of his cold hand. 

Solace barely heard his words over the thumping of her heart. Could he mean this? Something strange and frightening was afoot, that this man seemed to have known of her before even seeing her. Revulsion made her rush to the small pot that she had so recently emptied and she heaved up the meal she had just finished.

Marriage? To him? To this monstrous, hideous _animal_? Was that worse, or better than the horrible bloodthirsty fate that she had imagined awaited her in his homeland? Tears fell, some onto his hand and he hissed, wrenching his arm away from her.

'Please.' she sobbed, wretchedly, rising up to her knees when he stood, towering over her. 'Please. Kill me or send me home to my father. I only came to Ocean City to ask for help for my village... I'd never been there before.' She added irrelevantly. 

He watched her wipe the acid tang from her lips with her hand.

'Kill you?' His voice was soft, rolling, thunder in her ears. 'I mean to wed you.'


	8. Sunrise and Sunset: The Wiseman's Granddaughters

Two tall women, looking very much alike, made their way towards the courtyard of the Whitecastle keep. They wore the garb of the forest folk, practical and warm, with little by way of ornament in their dress. The one had a long dirk strapped to her thigh and the other carried quiver of arrows and had a small, black bow lashed to her back. 

Neither of the sisters spoke, nor did they look to each other for direction as they strode purposefully down the steep set of stone steps that connected the courtyard with the western tower. It was a path they had trodden together many times, their destination familiar to their feet. A few soldiers, bearing the King’s insignia, recognised them with a short nod but, by and large, they were ignored. 

The courtyard, a large cobbled space, was always busy, today especially so. It seemed that every trader in the province had wheeled his cart in and called out their wares. Their calls, some by way of song, echoed off the tall walls that kept Whitecastle safe, creating an echoing cacophony of noise. Near the main gateway a young woman roasted meat over a brazier, bestowing a grateful smile on those with coin to spend. A small boy played with sticks on the cobbles beside her, every so often he jammed one into the fire- watching with interest as the flame ate away at it until there was nothing.

A small door, well worn but still sturdy was set into a corner of the fortress wall. The women, passing the meat seller, waited in the shadow, after knocking, looking about the castle with piercing blue eyes that missed nothing.

A voice, frail with age but still commanding, bade them enter. They did so, the elder making way for the younger without second thought.

‘Grandfather.’ They acknowledged him, their voices low and respectful, as one. The old man nodded in greeting, his eyes were dim with age, he did not see the world around him any longer, the lashes of his one eye were completely absent, yet his head turned unerringly to the elder of his granddaughters.

‘Well, Sunrise? What news do you bring an old man?’

She would never understand how her grandfather, who could no longer make out his own hand, knew so well _where_ she stood in the room, when so many others, in possession of their full sight could not distinguish her from her younger twin. She moved forward, standing near his favoured chair, before answering.

‘A messenger has come, the King is to return, victorious- with the bride he sought from the South. He sent a man ahead as they crossed the border, they are perhaps two days hence.’

The old man heaved a sigh and his withered hand clutched for a moment at the gnarled end of his stick. 

‘It has begun then. Have a care, my children, our way lies rocky and perilous. You would be safer to return to your mother’s people in the forest.’

The sisters looked to each other -a lifted brow, a slight inclination of a head and they were agreed. Sunset opened her mouth.

‘What say you then, Sunset?’ asked the old man, before she could do so. It amused him to play this childish game with them, his granddaughters were skilled and strong women, perhaps the most lethal in the North- cunning and wise by turns and yet so easily baffled by a blind cripple, who knew them as well as they knew one another.

He heard the smile in her voice as she responded. ‘We will of course obey you, Grandfather, but will you not come with us?’ Her hand went to the dagger at her side.’ We would protect you if you will permit it.’ 

The wiseman steepled his fingers together. ‘Protect me? From what, child? Is it the dreaded wolves you would save me from, or your mother?’ He grimaced. ‘You know that I am not welcome in the forest, my dear. Neither by the wild beasts nor my by son’s widow. I am safe enough within these walls, for now. It will not always be so.’ 

Sunrise set her bow against the wall and made her way to the hearth. ‘Have you eaten, Grandfather? I will serve you.’ 

He smiled. He loved both of his son’s daughters, as though they were his very own, he understood them, he believed. How could he not? They were kin to him, filling a dark void in his heart after the death of his boy.

The Wiseman of Whitecastle did not care for his daughter-in-law, not one little bit. Tanwen was a spitting, snarling feral cat who would sacrifice anyone in her quest for vengeance. It was a good thing that she lived away from any of the established settlements in the North, her anger, burning as bright as her head, quickly poisoned those around her. He could, however, admire her determination and sense of purpose, even her misplaced loyalty. 

That loyalty was apparent in both his granddaughters, they did not forget the one who had raised them, even as his body failed him year after year. Sunrise especially, visited him regularly in his little home within the castle walls, and had an honest care for his comfort.

As Sunrise assembled a small plate of food, he felt Sunset’s eyes on him and angled his face towards her with a wry smile. 

‘You look at me so hard, dear one, that you would fathom my deepest secrets with your gaze. What troubles you?’ 

Sunset let out a reluctant laugh. She was the more serious of the twins and the less bothered by violent bloodletting. It was the reason she favoured the dirk above the bow, her elder twin preferred to be at a distance from death, even when it was necessary. ‘You see no less now, Grandfather, than you did when we were young- your eyes have little to do with the matter, I think.’ He had swivelled, to take his plate from Sunrise, but turned back to her with a grin. ‘If you will not come with us to the forest, sir, whither shall you go? The Dragon King will seek counsel from you on his return, I am sure of it, if your words are not to his liking...’

She trailed off, they knew well enough that the price for displeasing the beast was a great one to pay.There was no need to bring an old man pain by plainly saying _how._

Her grandfather carefully chewed his meat, it was harder now- many of his them had fallen out- a few remained at the front, but were not suited to the job so well as those he had lost. He savoured the flavour on his tongue, that too seemed dulled as time had progressed. Was it his mind playing tricks on him, that he should be so sure that fresh meat had once tasted so much richer? He knew not. 

Sunrise was exchanging another glance with her sister, he could feel it, the air in the room changed when they did so. He heard the answering hitch in breathing and the slight foot shuffle to the side that Sunset made when she was being reprimanded and drew his own, accurate conclusions. 

He swallowed. It was tender meat, he would miss it when he could not manage to eat it any longer. ‘Do not glower at your sister, Sunrise. Her point is well made. I cannot help _but_ to offer the King the truth of my foresight. He is not likely to be any less volatile now that he has a wife to guard.’

Sunrise snorted softly. ‘Guard her, sir? Mayhap she will guard herself- we had better not underestimate those from the South, lest we be taken by surprise.’

‘I think not, my dear. If I know anything from serving Vladilen Rutaxis all of my life, it is that when he takes a woman, he will guard her as closely as any dragon’s hoard is kept. Sunset is correct, he will seek my counsel and much will depend on what I see. The last time he came to me, he was as ruffled as I have ever seen. He has always been so cold, none of the fire or passion that you have, my dears...but his knowledge of this southern woman...he will burn, and the rest of the world with him, all for her...’ 

The wiseman recollected himself, he _must_ be getting old, to be endangering his precious ones by telling them too much. Had he not protected them, even against the customs of his people, from knowing too much of what was to come? He lifted his hand and beckoned them close. They knelt, strong young arms on each side of him.

‘You had best be off, my dears. Collect your things, make good time on your journey. Leave an old man to his food in peace. I will see you again.’ He did then, as he had always done, out of habit more than anything. The twins leant into his hands as he swept a finger over each of their eyelids. A full set of thick lashes on each. He smiled. ‘May you go forth, seeing only the joy of the present rather than the uncertainty of the future.’

They pressed soft kisses on each of his cheeks and departed without protest. Such obedient girls. He knew that he was the only man who could command them so without endangering his life, his friends and neighbors kept him abreast of their little battles, it was well known in the city that to rile up the temper of one was to enrage the other. They were always together, his girls, they would fight and war with the rest of the world but never one another. 

The wiseman, appetite gone, set aside his plate and rubbed the sore, hairless eyelid of his left eye. 

It would not always be so, he feared. He had been alive for a long time now, those of his particular talent were usually long lived, it came- he supposed, with being able to foresee calamity and avoid it. Sometimes, his impressions of the days and years ahead of them were startling in their clarity, he could see in great detail, these meaningless things that mattered little but, alas, his sight could not be commanded, even by himself. In recent days it had caused him much frustration.

The King had summoned him, a little over two seasons ago, before his unprecedented expedition south of the wall. His granddaughters, fearless as they were, had led him to the throne room in the heart of the castle keep. As though he had not trodden those steps at the King’s behest for decades. Still, he cherished their support- there was no denying that few would willingly enter the King’s presence, not even to aid a blind man. They had all bowed low together, Sunrise gently directing him by a firm hand in the direction of their master. It was very lowering for the Wiseman to need such direction, but it was near impossible to tell by sound where the King stood, and blind or not, one did not turn ones back to Vladilen Rutaxis.

‘Out.’ The Dragon King almost whispered his command and the wiseman felt the twins leave his side, heard their sped up breathing and silently applauded their carefully measured steps, so very determined _not_ to appear afraid. His brave-hearted girls.The door shut behind them with a soft thud.

He heard the faintest rustle of fabric to the side and knew that the King had moved to the window. It was a pose he had often seen him in, when his eyes had still been young enough to see. He would stand, his back to his subject, looking out on his kingdom whilst holding the complete attention of those behind him.

‘Cast your mind back to your vision of the girl.’ the King commanded. 

It was easily done. Some years ago, he had foreseen a young pregnant woman, sat enthroned beside her royal husband. In this brief vision the Vladilen Rutaxis had looked more human than he had ever seen him, with the hands of a man rather than a monster. It had been a short, fleeting glimpse, but the Wiseman had hurried to tell what he had seen. He had been required to describe, in excruciating detail all that he saw. 

On the basis of that vision, the Dragon King had seen every fertile woman in the North in order to find the one whom he was, apparently, to marry. The Wiseman was not his confidante, but it was plain that the woman was sought in the hope that she was _somehow_ the answer to breaking the curse put upon him so very, very long ago. 

The future Queen had not been found in the North, not in the cities nor the outposts nor even the settlements in the forests. It had been a nerve wracking time. Vladilen Rutaxis was ruthless in his quest, a few rebels had refused to subject their daughters to even the possibility of wedding the beast and fled. They had not gotten far. The King had caught up with them, every single one, and once having established that the daughters were not what he sought, slaughtered them all. 

Rebellion was not the course of the wise, not in _this_ kingdom. He remembered. How could he not?

The Wiseman bowed. ‘Aye, majesty- I recall it.’ he said quietly.

‘I dreamt of her last night.’ said the King, shortly, his voice louder now, having stepped nearer to his subject. ‘I saw nothing else, only her. I know the sound of her voice, I know the colour of her eyes...I know the warmth that comes from touching her.’ 

The wiseman started. ‘Majesty, do you believe it to have been a vision? Could it not have been simply a dream?’

Something crashed against a wall and shattered. He was glad that it was not him. 

‘Think you that I am a _fool_? I have not dreamt since becoming what I am! This curse in me, it urges me to find her with something akin to desperation. The search must begin again, I must go beyond the Wall. I will find her. I _must_ find her. You will not return to your home, old man. You will remain within the castle walls. When I return you will come to meet her and confirm that she is the Queen whom you have foretold.’

‘My King!’ cried the old man, ‘I will do whatever you bid me, but sire....I cannot see at will. Not with my eyes, nor even with the sight.’

The Kings voice sounded like ice when he responded. ‘If you cannot, then your granddaughters _will._ You have not obeyed the customs of your people with them, Wiseman. I know enough to be sure of that. You are old, you must not be the last of your line with the foresight. If upon my return, you see nothing, then you must test your descendants. I command it. ’

Fear took hold of the frail old man, he did not need his eyes to work to tell him that he stood before a snarling beast in a royal crown. Love for his granddaughters opened his mouth, to bargain with the monster. 

‘My Liege. It is...it is a great burden that I bear. I would spare my granddaughters this curse. If I meet your lady, if she _is_ whom I have seen...will you permit my girls to live as others do, untroubled by visions of their own deaths? I will serve you, my King, as did my father. I will drink, every night the drink of foresight in the hope of some further clue as to the whereabouts of our future Queen. Though it may cripple me further, to spare my family, I would do even this.’


	9. Limited Vision

Solace both longed for and dreaded, the moment when they would reach their destination, a towering stone castle that loomed up ahead of her. It seemed to her, more of a fortress, than a home, not at all like Ocean City. Her fingers were numb from having to hold onto the saddle and her legs had lost sensation long ago. Three days, they had been travelling, setting off as soon as the sun rose and only halting when the light faded too far for her to see. Vladilen Rutaxis had no such difficulty with blindness at night, as she had discovered when she attempted to sneak out of the tent when there was no moon in the sky and no lamps lit in the tent. She shuddered a little at the memory of his hard grip, seizing her as she lifted the flap.

A horn blasted out a note from behind her and the army paused to listen for the answering clear echo from the Castle, surging forward as soon as it was heard. They were all eager for their homes and even the horses seemed to sense that the end of a grueling journey was near. Solace, as much as she wished to be off the horse and into a soft bed, felt apprehension settle in her stomach at the sight of the White Castle, of which she was to be Queen. There was no moving the monster on _that_ point. Solace had begged, sobbed and refused outright; finally subsiding into silence when her distress went unheeded.

A double set of drawbridges led into the castle itself and Solace, looked about her curiously. It would be necessary to look about her, she thought, both in the hopes of escape and _if_ this stark, sprawling, fortress was indeed to be her home. The walls were as thick as her whole hut in the forest and, as the sound of horses hooves rang out on the cobble, she saw little doors set into the castle walls, many of which opened at the noise and the inhabitants came to bow to their returning King. 

Solace heard a clatter, off towards the gate that she had just passed through and saw a heavy iron gate being closed by a group of strongly built men. She felt as though they put up bars against her wavering hope of freedom when they moved to stand at the entrance. Time passed hazily, men and horses milled about her, and then it was time to dismount. Vladilen had already done so and was issuing orders to the commander that had ridden in with him. People were staring at her, perhaps wondering why she sat so dumbly atop her mount, and familiar embarrassment caused her to flush but she knew, that if she were to get off her horse, her legs would not, could not, support her body.. 

_He_ knew it also and tossing his reins to a waiting guard, reached up and lifted her down to the ground. The King did not release her, but hoisted her up into his arms and made his way up stone steps, into the Castle keep. Solace felt sick to her stomach in fear and shame, shutting her eyes against the stares of those who were still watching, open mouthed at the sight before them. The rocking motion of Vladilen’s uneven gait made her feel worse with them shut, so she forced them open them again.

A man, with hair the colour of sand, fell into step slightly behind them after bowing low. He wore a fur lined cloak over his armour. 

Vladilen did not pause in his stride and for a moment Solace wondered if the King had not noticed his subject, for all the change in his countenance. 

‘Yakimi.’ he said.

‘My Leige! All is prepared, the Wiseman will be fetched at your command. There was a small rebel attack at the mines in your absence, but it was swiftly dealt with.’

‘The perpetrators?’ He turned down a narrower, torch lit corridor and mounted a tower staircase, Yakimi followed behind. The man cast a brief, curious glance towards Solace before directing his gaze to the back of his master’s head. 

‘Caught and executed, Sire...there was some indication that they were put up to it. I am investigating the matter, but wished to be here on your return.’ 

The King looked down at the half fainting burden in his arms and his eyes narrowed. It did not improve his appearance and Solace slid her gaze away.

‘Fetch him then.’ he said quietly, and stepped briskly through a doorway, closing the door behind him.

He set Solace down near the roaring fire, she slumped to the ground immediately, her legs felt heavier than rocks and she could not lift them, not even with her hands to assist.

A hearty meal had been laid out on a low table by the window and Vladilen went to it, filling a platter with cold meats and bread. He poured water into a heavy goblet and brought both drink and food over to her by the fire. 

‘Eat,’ he said, and returned to the table to fill his own plate.

She did so, and little by little her fingers stopped shaking so visibly. She gulped down the water, eagerly. Drink had been rationed to everyone as they had travelled north. Her mouth had felt dry and her tongue, thick, the entire journey.They ate in silence, Solace too intent on her meal to look about her, or to concern herself with the man across the room.

There was a knock on the door and at a word from Vladilen, who sat still eating his food, an old man slowly entered. 

He stumbled a little on the threshold, and bowed low. His hair was grizzled and unkempt, falling wildly about his shoulders. In his hand he carried a thick staff, on which he leant heavily in order to straighten. Solace, feeling more alert now that she had eaten, noted the swollen redness of his left eye. It looked angry and sore. She thought, momentarily, of the many plants she grew in her little garden that would soothe away such redness and pain, wondering if he had no one to care for him, as she had done her dear father. 

It was evident that no loving hands had mended his clothing for many a year, they were dirty and threadbare, his boots were scuffed and nearly in holes also, when the rain and snow came they would be nearly useless. 

He did not look directly at her until she set her cup, which she had been clutching down with a soft _clink_ on the stone hearth beside the fire. That blank, white eyed stare seemed to look through her and realisation dawned. 

‘You’re blind!’ she exclaimed, now struggling to stand with shaking legs. ‘Here, come sit by the fire, I will help you.’ Once, as a child, she had found a rabbit caught in a snare- blinded by disease, she had pitied it and brought it home, intent on keeping it as a pet. Her father had taken one look at it and taken it away. She had wept for days over its plight.

Using the furniture in the room to support her, she made her way over to the astonished man and reached out her hand to take his.

As she did so, a painful jolt sparked through her arm, wrenching it away from the shoulder. She looked at her hand in confusion, and then at the man. 

Vladilen had risen and now stood beside her, his claw barring her from reaching for the old man again.

‘Do not touch him again, Solace. Once is all that I will allow, and that of necessity.’

‘But he _needs_...’ 

‘He needs nothing. Return to the fire. You are still cold.’

He spoke without even glancing at her, his eyes were fixed on the face of the man, who trembled.

‘Well?’ The King was clearly impatient.

The Wiseman bowed, his shaking hands grasped at his staff, leaning his weight on it. ‘It is she, Sire. Certainly, there is no mistaking her.’ 

‘What just occurred to cause my lady to wrench her hand from you, as though you burned like flame?’

The old man made a soft, frustrated sound. ‘I cannot tell, my King. I have never known such to occur before.’

The silence was heavy, Vladilen looked hard at the blind man, with a monster’s cruel eyes.

‘Very well, leave me.’

‘My grand-daughters, Sire?’ The old man was _pleading_.

‘I shall consider. Be gone.’ 

The Wiseman retreated. 

Solace returned to the fire, attempting to stretch out her limbs and stared into the flames. She tried discreetly, to rub the arm that had been so strangely affected by the old man’s touch. Vladilen Rutaxis watched her, a quick glance up to his face confirmed that. He always watched her, she was beginning to realise. Since the first moment he had seen her, standing in that line of women, he had hardly taken his eyes off her. It disturbed and alarmed her.

There was clearly something significant that she was not privy to, something that even a blind man could see, but not her. Would the King even tell her if she were brave enough to ask? She doubted it, not from the way he was now scowling at her arm. His face was alien and inhuman, but certain expressions on his face rendered it even more monstrous to Solace. Anger, to name one. The scaled skin over his eyes was drawn together in deep lines, regardless of his mood, but when his mouth thinned and dark brows drew together in fury, there was something evil in his face and Solace could not bear to look on it. 

‘These are to be your rooms,’ he said. He sounded almost surprised to have broken the silence. Moving away from her, he crossed to a wall hanging of a knight slaying a dragon and held it to the side. Behind it stood another door. ‘I will send a waiting woman to serve you. You are tired, you will sleep. Everything else must wait until morning.’

He nodded deeply to her, his stance uneasy, and it took Solace a moment to realise that the beast might have been bowing. She dipped a slight courtesy, it felt clumsy to her, on such unsteady limbs. It mattered not, however as he had turned back to the door that led to the tower steps. Solace considered, with a grimace whether she would rather be thought deliberately insulting to a King, or embarrassingly weak to a warrior.

She looked at the timber floor, covered with rugs, when he faced her again, his hand on the door- ready to depart. 

‘Do not try to leave the tower. There will be men posted at the bottom but they will not dare to ascend. A woman will come soon, she will remain with you. Rest.’ And with that abrupt kindness, she was alone.

Her shoulders sagged in relief at his departure, solitude was a gift to her. His watchful eyes, taking note of her every move, exhausted her and she was heartily glad of the respite. 

She cautiously went to the door behind the tapestry, the King had not opened it- who knew what lay beyond? It creaked as she pushed at it and then swung freely open. A circular room lay beyond and within it, nothing more daunting than a bed covered with furs and quilts. 

The room was dark, shutters had been drawn over the single window but Solace could not summon up the energy to retreat into the outer chamber for a light. Tugging off her boots from swollen ankles, she wedged open the door a little and lay down on the bed, sinking gratefully into it. It seemed to embrace her, supporting her- lifting her. So different from her own little bed, in her own little room, home in the forest. She wondered if her Father stood beside that bed, even at this moment as another night approached with his daughter gone. Did he mourn her, thinking she had died? Whatever he thought, there was no possibility that his imaginings would be anything like reality. She was glad of it for _his_ sake, that he could not know his precious child, all that was left to him of his dead wife, was now held prisoner in a strange land...by a monster.

She filled her lungs, slowly and deeply with the musty smelling air. She missed the scent of her garden flowers, so often their subtle perfume had floated in through her window with the moonlight and lulled her to a gentle sleep. She could not bring herself to think of how much she missed her dear, dear Father for if she did, her heart would surely break in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, transitional chapters are occasionally necessary! If you are reading this, thank you, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	10. Observation and Declaration

She woke to the sound of wooden shutters being opened by girl in a grey woolen dress and a scarf wrapped about her head. A blanket had been pulled over her during the night and Solace held it close and sat up.

The movement caught the maid’s eye and she turned away from the task of letting in the daylight. Either the sun did not rise in the direction of her window, or it far advanced in the morning, certainly, there was not that faint rosy hue of dawn that Solace was familiar with, but then who knew what else might be different in the North? Might the sun not behave differently in a land where monsters lived as Kings? 

The girl bent at the knee in a half bow, half curtsey and Solace nodded back. Her legs ached and throbbed this morning, but perhaps that might be a good thing, given that they seemed to be obeying her rather better than they had yesterday. She swung herself down from the bed into a sitting position, presenting her back to the girl who looked at her with unabashed curiosity.

‘Pardon, my Lady, but there is food to break your fast in the outer chamber and...the King has already been by to see if you were yet risen.’

Solace twisted to look at her. ‘Did he come in _here_?’ she asked, in dismay.

‘No my Lady, but he made me check that you were still sound asleep before he left.’ 

‘Oh.’ Solace, to avoid thinking of him, looked at the girl. She was not pretty, not really, but she had a cheerful demeanor and small beady eyes that assessed her without embarrassment. Solace wondered what she thought of the weak and frail looking creature that she was apparently, to serve. ‘What is your name?’

‘Gul, Mistress.’ 

Solace smiled a little. ‘It is not a name I have ever heard before, I am from the South- no doubt there are many differences here in the North, that I shall encounter.’

Gul grinned widely, apparently pleased enough to talk. ‘It isn’t common in these parts, either, my Lady; I am the last of twelve daughters. By the time father came to naming me he’d run out of ideas so he just named me ‘girl’, Gul just seemed to grow from it.’ It did not seem to trouble her.

‘I see.’ said Solace, and rose from the bed. She was very uncomfortable, her clothes smelt of horse and her hair felt rough and unpleasant to the touch. Wandering over to the window, Solace looked out. 

It was a far reaching view, over the thick fortress walls, to undulating farmland stretching out very far and beyond that they were surrounded by dense forests. She could not see anything familiar about the landscape, neither was there anything she could see that might aid her escape. 

Looking down below her window, Solace saw that the tower in which she had slept the night, stood alone within the castle walls and was surrounded by its own moat of water. A path of green grass encircled the great tower, broken only by the bridge which, she supposed, the King must have carried her over the last evening. Guards stood on the bridge, the dragon insignia clearly visible on their tunics. Solace looked to the water surrounding her prison, it was almost entirely covered in thick water weed, the kind that would tangle about a drowning man, robbing him of all air and hope. Even if she had courage to face the water, after having nigh on perished in the sea, there could be no escape that way.

Her stomach growled at her. ‘I need to wash. I am forbidden to leave the tower and I see neither well nor stream in this room... have you a bucket of water, Gul?’

Gul, as it turned out, had many buckets of water, which she would see brought to the Great Tower and poured into a large tub- if her lady would perhaps move to the other room to eat, she would see to it straight away.

Solace did so, softly saying that if Gul would bring the buckets as far as the door, she would fetch and carry them to the tub. The maid’s eyebrows had lifted slightly at that, the sharp, assessing look returning to her eyes once more. Solace very nearly bristled.

‘I have taken care of my father since I could walk in a straight line, Gul. I may be small, but I can manage to haul buckets well enough.’ 

Gul blinked, ‘Aye. As you say Mistress. I beg your pardon, my Lady.’

Solace, having passed through to the other room, nodded stiffly and sat. She ate quickly, so that by the time Gul returned to the room with a wooden pail in each hand, she was ready to take one off her. 

‘Set the other down. I’ll fetch it in a moment. Only another two trips and I should think the tub will be full enough.’

Gul gaped, nonplussed, ‘Yes, my lady. One of the kitchen lads is hauling them as far as the bridge.’ 

They fetched and carried in silence and in very little time, Solace was sat in a round tub, scrubbing at the filth that had accumulated over days of dusty travel. Gul produced a bottle of fresh smelling oil, a scent that Solace did not know. Solace attempted to bring a little more order to her hair, also. Tangles and knots had made it look wild and untamed, not at all the usual smooth order she preferred to keep it in. The water had grown cold once she had worked her fingers through every strand of hair she could get to, and twisting it into a loose knot, she stood and stepped out of the tub. 

Gul had found clean raiment for her, apparently after the style of the Northern women. A soft, light coloured underdress with a shorter, heavy surplus, worn above and fastened about the waist with a long strip of brightly coloured cloth. It was different to the separated skirts and upper garments that Solace was used to, but it was clean and warm. She was grateful for that and felt a little more herself than she had since the moment Jonas Carver had kissed her and sent her off, with that grim look of foreboding, lurking in his bright eyes.

For a moment, she raised her fingers to her lips, recalling how it had felt. It was a pleasant memory, it comforted her to think that perhaps Jonas _might_ have loved her, had she stayed.

Feeling a little more cheerful, she made herself listen to Gul’s chatter attentively. The maid was laughing over first time she had been sent to fetch water from the well in the main courtyard, being too enthusiastic with filling the buckets to the very top and consequently soaked through by the time she brought less than half her water home. It was a pleasant moment and Solace was sorry to see her disappear through the door with the last of the dirty pails, saying that she would return at sunset.

Solace went to the window, intent on studying the layout of the castle. The view from the window on this side of the tower overlooked the single bridge that led out to the main town and buildings. A keep, set with four towers at its corners dominated the space, to its side a long, straight sided building stood, with immense paned windows- the likes of which she had never seen before. It was not clear what its purpose was but Solace admired the grandeur of it, before confining her attention to the movement of the castle inhabitants. 

No one approached the steps leading to the Great Tower bridge, Solace could only assume that more guards were placed there, as well as the others directly below her. Whatever her purpose here, she was well guarded- both from intruders coming in, and herself from getting out. 

She started a little, when after a long while of staring through the window, she saw a huge dark figure crossing the bridge toward her tower. She did not need to see the gleaming gold of a crown to know that her captor had returned hence. Solace was reminded of the first time she had seen him, also from high above the ground. Then, he was just the product of rumour and myth, all armour and hidden features. She’d had no idea that the tales of his inhumanity were so accurate. 

Would she have fled Ocean City, had she been able? Had she known that his intention was to wed her? A nights rest and good food had restored her sense of reason, to an extent, and she admitted to herself that she had not yet taken any harm from the Dragon King himself. That he frightened her, she could also admit, and little wonder! An animal, walking and talking like a mortal, it was a terrifying thing. She stood back from the window when Vladilen looked up, seeing her watching him and stood absolutely still. He glanced back toward his destination in a moment and moved on. 

She did not turn from the window when he came in, and after pausing a moment at the door he joined her, looking out at his stronghold. 

‘ Do you know, Lady, that within my lifetime the citizens of the South acknowledged me as their King. You might do the same, you know, as you did your Benedictor.’ He said it mildly, but Solace flushed. She _had_ been as rude as she was capable of being, an indirect punishment, if he would even see it as such, for bringing her here against her will. 

She faced him with her body, keeping her eyes averted and curtseyed, wordlessly. A hard, clawed finger came up under her chin, as it had done once before and forced her to meet his glittering eyes. Solace swallowed.

The soft pad of his fingertip traced her jaw, lightly brushing the lobe of her ear before he tilted his hand to rest behind her neck, directing her head to still face him. He seemed enraptured, engrossed and unwilling to be hurried in his explorations. What might have been a smile crossed his, surprisingly human, mouth and Solace held her breath.

‘That is very obedient, Solace. Now I should like to see you acknowledge me as husband... are you still so adamant that you shall not?’

Such a light, unconcerned, tone he had to his voice. How could it be that Solace _knew_ with such certainty that his whole attention was riveted to her reply? 

‘Why?’

She blurted out the question, more sullen than she had ever been as a child. He dropped his hand from her neck. She exhaled.

Vladilen considered her carefully and there was steel and fire in his voice when he answered.

‘Because it will mean the lives of your kin if you do _not_ , and the peace of your homeland if you do.’

What other response could she possibly give? Swallowing the lump in her throat, Solace curtseyed once more, eyes fixed on a point of light that shone from his crown and nodded. 

‘Very well. It shall be as you wish.’ She sounded stiff and colourless. She blindly reached for his horrible hand, so unlike her own, and kissed it. She noted, dully, that her eyes were dry and that she did not tremble visibly.

His hand returned to her neck. ‘As _husband_ , Solace.’ He drew her closer and bent his head down. 

He waited. 

She had no courage left, only the strength of her desperation and love for her father. She believed the monster when he said that her kin would perish by her refusal. If her only purpose in life was to be the means by which her homeland would be at peace, and her dear father live out his lonely days untroubled by war, then it was a worthy purpose in her eyes.

‘Then... I name you, Vladilen Rutaxis, my Lord and husband,’ and reached up to swiftly touch her lips with hers. It was all that was necessary in her village. A declaration and a kiss.  
He let out a long, cool breath, his face still close to hers. He smelled of blood and fire.

To her surprise, he did not make the traditional reply, instead taking her hand and rapidly leading her down through the door, down spiral stone steps and out through the main entrance of the Great Tower.

A light rain had begun to fall, the kind that washed the earth and made it feel fresh and clean. It landed on her still damp hair, cold and cleansing. She wished that it might drown her.

Vladilen led her across the bridge, ignoring the soldiers that bowed deeply, down more stone steps and into the courtyard into which they had ridden, only yesterday. 

Crowds of people stopped what they were doing to bow and pay attention to their King, who lifted his unoccupied hand for silence. He raised his voice but little when he spoke.

‘The Lady Solace has given me her pledge. I accept it. I claim her as wife, I name her as my Queen.’

Audible gasps emitted from the gathering nearest to them, and moments later the people knelt to pay homage. Through blurred vision, Solace watched them, the rising and dipping of their bowed heads reminding her of the waves of the sea. 

It felt unreal, like a tale that might told by travelling bards that merrily sing the songs of history and of myth. 

The King tugged on her hand, releasing it to grasp her shoulders. She knew what was to come and shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself a moment before his mouth descended on hers.


	11. Order

They travelled by foot, unable to afford horses, to the well hidden settlement that was governed by their mother. Sunrise kept a wary eye out ahead of them, bow at the ready, the entire time. She was anxious. It did not sit well with her, to leave her Grandfather to the mercies of their King, she was his eldest grandchild, she ought to be the one to protect him, even at risk to herself.

Sunrise knew of a handful of assassination attempts against Vladilen Rutaxis, all had failed, no blade, they said, could make its way through the hide of his scales. It did not necessarily mean that an arrow would not, she thought. If it were for the sake of the Wiseman, she would willingly release that shaft. 

Perhaps the little maiden who had ridden in with the King would thank her for it, certainly she did not look happy with her situation as she had sat dumbly atop her horse. Too ill, or stupid, to look up and see the red haired woman atop the battlements, arrow in bow, perfectly able to kill her where she slumped. Sunrise did not approve of horses - to be sure, they added speed but at the cost of being far too open to attack. Not that she had aught against the poor Southern wench that his Majesty had brought back with him, but her mother might see it differently.

She looked across at her twin. Would Sunset see things the way Tanwen did? That every life must be devoted to revenge on the murderer of their father? Sunrise was pragmatic, as always, her Father may not have deserved to die, but having the sight, he certainly would have expected it- she wondered often, why he had not sought to avoid it. A Wiseman might evade death successfully for many a year, as her grandfather had. She had just been a child when the Dragon King had summoned her father that last time. He had kissed her farewell, tenderly on her eyelids as he had her sister. Not Tanwen though, perhaps they had argued. 

Surely he had known.

Sunrise shivered, both from unhappy memories and from the cool wind that blew down the rock face of the white cliffs, channelled by the trees. This was wolf country, passing through during the daytime might be foolishness to many, but to her- it was home. She would not venture out of the settlement when night fell, however. No one would. 

Tanwen’s settlement had its own sense of order and laws, the worst punishment of which was the casting out, at the dead of night- leaving the rebel to the mercy of the packs that roamed the forests of the North. They never survived. 

Deep in the heart of the forest lay a glade, the dim light was welcome after the gloom of the trees. Here there grew a little grass, a little stream babbled a little farther off and a dark cave entrance sloped up from brown grass. It was not, by anyones standards, a welcoming hole to crawl into, from without, it was not even clear that it might be a cave. To the rare passer by, it might look like the den of a large animal, and therefore not likely to be investigated too closely.

There was no denying that Tanwen was cunning, the King may not have been afraid of any living beast in the North, but his soldiers certainly were. When all the maidens in the North had been called to present themselves to Vladilen Rutaxis, a precious few had found refuge with Tanwen and her tribe.

Sunset nudged her sister in the ribs as they crouched, to pass through the hidden entrance of the settlement. It was possible that a wolf pack had dug out these early tunnels, but were now long gone. After a short distance the tunnel widened into caverns big enough to accommodate a village. Braziers, always tended were placed carefully in the back of the second set of caves, they were safe from the wolves and safe from the King.

‘What is it?’ Sunrise whispered in response to the sharp elbow. Her voice echoed off the cavern walls.

‘The girl, the one he’s going to make Queen. Mother will want to know. What will you tell her?’

Sunset did not need to explain herself, it was uncanny how their thoughts so often coincided. 

Her elder twin sighed. ‘I don’t know. I can’t help but think what Grandfather said, about him guarding her- he’ll condemn rebels to death even quicker now, and his majesty doesn’t hesitate much as it is. There is little enough to tell of her, let us leave it at that. It might be best not to mention Grandfathers visions, nor the drink of foresight. Mother will try to meddle. I only hope she doesn’t see this little Queen as a sign to attack. We are not ready, he’ll slay us all and Grandfather first.’

‘I wish he had come with us.’

Sunrise shrugged, although she too wished the Wiseman had come to relative safety. ‘He hates Mother, and she him. Perhaps he knows something we do not.’

Sunset snorted softly. ‘Doesn’t he always? He told me I’d have my first bleed a night before it came. Some things I’d rather my grandsire not know. There’s no hiding anything from him.’ It was an old complaint of Sunset’s, but Sunrise nodded anyway, as though hearing it for the first time.

They straightened up, the tunnel opening out- Tanwen and her followers had carved out rough houses into the cavern walls, even built the odd hut here and there and Sunrise glimpsed that familiar hair, more brown than red in the firelit underground sanctuary. Her mother was directing men here and there, until her attention was called to her daughters standing in the entrance to the outside world.

She flung out her arms and strode towards them. Tall, commanding and energetic. As she had always been. 

‘My daughters! You have returned to me. Come.’ 

They approached her, pressing their lips to each hollow cheek. Vaguely did Sunrise remember the days when Tanwen had been glowing with health and beauty, those days had long gone. Now, having spent years under the ground, grieving and plotting only the glow of madness was left to her. 

It was the worst kind of madness, Sunrise had sometimes thought, with a passion and eloquence that leads others to believe it as truth. Tanwen would never kill the King, and she would lead good men to grim deaths by filling them with the spirit of rebellion, willing to risk their own lives for the hope of change.

It was Tanwens dream to die, dagger in hand, having spilt the blood of the Dragon King and knowing that her husband’s death had been avenged. For a nearly two decades, she had recruited men, sent out scouts for knowledge and set up a safe place, where he could not possibly think to look for her.

‘What news do you bring from the fortress, Sunrise?’

Her daughter grimaced. ‘Grandfather is well enough. The King has returned from the Southern war, with a girl.’

Tanwen’s brows drew together. ‘A girl? Of what manner?’

Sunset intervened. ‘She is to be Queen, or so rumour has it. Commander Yakimi mentioned that his Majesty went south to fetch her.’

Tanwen’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

‘A _Queen_. So that is why he wanted to see the women. Lined them all up like a row of trees, only for _naught._ To what end do you do this, beast?’ Tanwen muttered to herself, turning from her daughters and waving them off. 

The twins exchanged a speaking glance, they were forgotten for now, their mother had disappeared into her own mind for a while, fathoming out the mysteries of the one she hated with an energy that eclipsed even her love for her children. They walked away, not heeding Tanwen’s mutterings which she punctuated with the occasional mellow chuckle.

They went to their hut, which Tanwen kept ready for them, and set down their weapons- it was the only place they felt free to do that. Neither of the women liked to be below ground. They lived for the moments when they could run through the forests hunting, with danger on their heels and only their skills to aid them. Being in a cave, living below ground like the animals that they sometimes slaughtered...it was demeaning. It was suffocating. 

Straight away, after setting down their weapons, the sisters reached for the smooth brown pot, that contained water. Filling their cups, they drank eagerly. A spring came out from the earth in one of the deeper caves and to get to it, Sunrise had to slide on her belly, the rock above her too low to even crawl. It was the only source of water for the settlement, a slim woman might manage it but most often a young boy was sent to fetch it, in shallow pails learning through patience and long practice not to spill it. 

That water was the best thing about living with Tanwen. Clear, pure and so refreshing that Sunrise, who was not given to the whimsical, felt that her very soul might be cleaner from having swallowed it. There was no other water like it, not anywhere in the North. No well in the Kingdom ran deep enough to even compare.

Sunset felt the same way, they had never discussed it but Sunrise could tell, from the slight relaxing of her twins shoulders and inaudible sigh of happiness that she would let out after the first swallow. She knew, because she did precisely the same. 

It was an unpleasant contrast to the sight of her grandsire forcing down his cup, night after night, of the drink of foresight. Sunrise knew how to prepare it, this fearful concoction of herbs that, when combined together and left to steep, made a mixture that was fatal for an ordinary man to consume.

It was hard for her, to see her grandfather look so frail and helpless, eyes sore and blank, waiting desperately for visions to come and nigh on _weeping_ when they did not. He would not tell her why he made himself suffer so, only that it was necessary. She had held his hand, as he writhed in pain and retched up black bile, having drunk too much of it. 

It did not take a great deal of wit to deduce that he had been ordered to by Vladilen Rutaxis. It was times like that, seeing a great man humbled, that she agreed with her mother, that the reign of the beast must be ended, no matter what the cost. 

Her father, and her grandfather. Would both of them forfeit their lives to this monster? Would her countrymen live in fear for ever, given that he neither aged nor faded- only grew more terrible with each passing decade? 

Sunrise had once, as an inquisitive child, asked the Wiseman if the King was animal or man. Grandfather had shaken his head and answered distractedly, ‘Neither and both, my dear. The heart of each beats out the rhythm of deeds, just the same.’ His words had confused her so much that she and Sunset decided between them that he must simply be a beast, a conclusion which Grandfather had not argued with.

Unger tapped on the lintel of the doorway and both women turned. Unger was their mother’s most trusted ally. Privately, they suspected that after their father had passed on, he was rather more than that to her, but never was it confirmed. It was a truth that was realised by all, but acknowledged by none.

He grinned at them, his brightly coloured beard quivering as he talked. ‘Well now, Unger is pleased to see such a sight as Tanwen’s most _capable_ daughters. How goes it with you, have you spoken with your mother?’

It was Sunset who responded. ‘Greetings, Unger. It has been too long since we have last seen your face. We have reported to Mother, she is even now considering our information. What news from here? Any more raids since last we met?’

Unger looked smug. ‘I myself led an attack on the mines to the east. It was successful, the Dragon King was away, and your mother thought it might be an opportune moment to test the strength of the commanders he left behind. We brought home a few sacks of gold and a few captives, miners, to interrogate.’ 

He shrugged, affecting modesty. ‘It was a good fight.’ 

Sunrise spoke up, having finished her water and setting the cup aside. ‘The miners will die, of course. They must, or were they blindfolded when you brought them here?’ It had been Sunrise’s most recent suggestion to her mother, that rather than killing the prisoners, it would be better to blind them rather than spill blood and conceal the settlement. It was possible that Tanwen had heeded her. 

He shrugged again. ‘They are Tanwen’s affair. It is naught to do with Unger.’

Sunset cast an impatient glance at her sister. ‘Did we lose any men, Unger? Did all return safely from your mighty attack?’ The faintest trace of sarcasm was detectable in her tone, and Sunrise’s brows shot up. It was not like her sister to deliberately rile up their mother’s right hand man.

The man in question stepped away from the entrance to their hut, having casually leant against it up till now. He drew himself up tall, trying to conceal the discomfort on his face. ‘I see Tanwen has already told you of my failure, then. We lost several good men, good fighters. Brothers in our cause. They will not talk, but I fear there is little hope for them.’

Sunset interrupted, hotly. ‘ _Little_ hope? Tis more like _none_! The King has returned to the Whitecastle. If they are not dead already they will be soon enough. Unger, what could possibly have led to this? Who was taken?’

But Unger was retreating from the entrance, saying only, ‘You must ask your mother. She will tell you all, she thought of going to retrieve the men herself but I persuaded her to wait on it. Should she see _him_ she would surely betray herself and strike out in her rage. Where would any of us be, without _her_?’

Tanwen approached them then, and Unger’s shoulders slumped this time. He looked with admiration to his leader, whose face was contorted in thoughtful concentration.

Tanwen reached out to him and patted his arm. ‘Unger, I have a plan. The monster has brought home a bride, a human... _mortal_ bride. _His_ death will surely come soon, and by my hand...but first, I want him to know what it is to have a companion ripped from him. My daughters...’ she turned to Sunrise and Sunset, a disturbing gleam in her eye, ‘I task you, my most trusted and beloved ones, with killing the Queen.’


	12. Testing

They sat, the King and Queen, at each end of the long polished table, waiting whilst servants brought out golden dishes that were piled high with food. There were but two of them to dine and Solace nigh on winced at the waste of it all. 

They had been husband and wife now, for a few days, every evening Vladilen had promised her more liberty, even to the extent of the whole castle, if she would dine with him in the Great Hall. Until this evening, Solace had refused, feeling unequal to being the object of stares and whispers. He had not _commanded_ that she eat with him, in fact, he had avoided issuing orders to her at all since she had pledged her obedience and named him husband. It was this, and not any feeling of wishing to please him, that had made her nod shortly, when he visited her that afternoon and quietly asked that she honor him with her presence.

It did not mean, by any means, that she was reconciled to her situation. In Solace’s eyes, she had done the only thing that she possibly could, in acceding to his wish to wed. It rankled with her, although she was not a warrior and as such did not hold _honor_ so very highly as these savage soldiers of the North. She knew however, in her heart, that if the opportunity to escape arose, she would seize it with both tiny hands. How could anyone blame her? The King, who had placed a heavy gold crown on her head, was _hideous ___and not just in face and manner. Solace had developed a habit of fixing her gaze on the shine of his crown when speaking to him, or if he did not wear that, away from him altogether. She did not trouble herself over whether or not this bothered him, he had never stopped to consider _her_ feelings, not when he had dragged her to the North, and not when he had imprisoned her in a thick walled tower.  
  
So intent was she, on looking anywhere but at her husband, that her attention was drawn to a small boy, sat at a separate table near the door. The torch sconces nearest to him had not been lit, so his little table was cast a little into the shadows. He was clean enough, but scrawny, his dark hair was so cropped short and it stuck out at odd angles about his pinched face. His plate of wood was rapidly being filled with a little of each dish by the servers.

Solace frowned in thought. His garb clearly marked him as a member of the peasantry, and not a child of rank or high station. How then was he chosen to eat in the presence of the King and Queen? Perhaps Vladilen had taken pity on a starving child and thought this was the best way to feed him. Such a charitable deed did not fit in with her knowledge of his character, but was it not a feasible explanation? When the hungry had come to her father’s door, she had sat at table with them and treated them as an honoured guest in her home. Perhaps this strange new husband of hers had heart after all? She was ready to admit that she did not know him, and even that she did not wish to. 

It was not until she reached for a small roll of bread and raised it to her lips that she realised why the boy was there. 

_‘Solace. _Hold._ ’_

_‘Sir?’_

‘Those have not been tested yet.’ And he nodded over to the child, who, at a whispered word from a tunic garbed servant, directly took a roll and bit into it. 

Solace dropped the soft white bread. ‘Tested for what, Your Majesty?’ She asked, evenly. It would not do to leap to conclusions, but even she, in her pleasant corner of the forest, had known of plants that healed and plants that harmed. 

‘Poison. I am not without enemies, wife.’ He spoke dispassionately, as though the possibility of being murdered was completely expected as normal. It was not so to Solace. 

She forced her voice to steadiness and her breath to come evenly.‘Does the child have a talent for recognising dangerous herbs?’ 

The boy in question was now doggedly making his way through a meat pie, wholly oblivious to the conversation at the main table. 

Vladilen’s upper lip curled. ‘After a fashion. He is the son of the cook. It is an incentive, if you will, for her to ensure that nothing untoward makes its way onto your plate.’ 

An incentive. He put the life of a child at risk and called it _incentive_. She ought not be so surprised, so shocked. Anyone might sneak poison into their food, without any knowledge of the cook in charge, Solace wondered if the poor soul in the kitchens dared leave any pot unattended, with such a threat hanging over her head. She had never known her mother, but knew that to hurt a child was the worst thing a man might do, it was a dreadful thing to use so as to establish dominion. It was the way of the Dragon King, to rule with threats and violence. Vladilen Rutaxis was not merely a monster on the outside, he was rotten to the core, the only occasional glimmer of humanity was shown, gruffly, to her. Yesterday, there had been a public hanging in the courtyard, the remainder of those who had been captured in the mines to the east. The poor beaten felon was already half dead when a rope was slipped about his bleeding neck. The man had been _interrogated_ , according to Yakimi, the most senior commander in her husband’s army. The commander was a smoothly spoken man, kind enough to not comment that she hid her face in her hands during the entire spectacle. Vladilen had noticed her distress as they had risen to depart and shrugged off his thick cloak to drape about her shoulders. It did not halt the trembling of her body, nor did it stop the nightmares that plagued her mind that night. 

Solace lowered her eyes to her plate. It did not look so appealing as it had when first placed there. Did her husband use her as an excuse, in order to use a mere youth to test his food for poison? Did he fear death, this mighty warrior King? How _could_ he, when he had lived a larger number of years than Solace could even count? 

Anger was not an emotion that Solace had much familiarity with. As a child, she had avoided high passions and tantrums, and had not even liked to hear others shouting. At this moment, rage bubbled up, intensely hot in her chest. She drew a calming breath, concentrating on filling her lungs to the very top, the cool air doused the flames of her ire a little. It would not do to provoke Vladilen, there was no one here who would, or even could, defend her should he wish her harm. He had not wished it thus far, in fact, the servants were all so afraid of inadvertently injuring her that they gave her wide berth. Perhaps he might listen to reason, from her. He had told her, after escorting her back to her tower- having kissed her so thoroughly, that he wished his wife to be content and that even her smallest whims would be met if she but _asked_ him. 

She leant back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Vladilen paused, his hand suspended mid air, the gold of the talons gleamed brightly, reflecting the light from the torches that lit the expanive room. 

A servant approached, nervously. He bent at the waist and murmured to her, ‘Does your Majesty mislike the food- I can fetch anything you please from the kitchens, the cook is eager to please you, my lady.’ 

Solace craned her neck to look at the man directly. He seemed earnestly fearful of her, they all were here. Everyone she encountered treated her with cautious respect, as though always expecting her husband to appear from nowhere beside her. 

The Queen shook her head to the man, waving him away. It was not his fault, she supposed. At present, her heart was beating loudly in her ears, her fingers shook and she felt hot and tense. Her body was poised for battle, even if her mind was pacing to and fro, searching for the path of least confrontation. 

‘I...should prefer not to eat this food, Sir. Not while it risks the life of someone innocent.’ She was slightly surprised by the implacability in her tone, did anger put it there? She would not bend. She would rather cook her own food herself, than have a someone live, fearing the loss of their child. She rose, and Vladilen, silent and frowning did so also. 

‘Leave us.’ He raised a claw to wave off the servants in the hall, the door closed behind the boy with a soft click. Solace wondered how many of them had their ears pressed to the wood. He moved to a brazier, and beckoned her over with an imperious finger. The Queen obeyed. 

‘You’ll not eat this food?’ 

‘No, sir.’ 

‘On account of a servants brat?’ 

‘No, Your Majesty, on account of principle.’ 

‘On _what_ principle?’ He sounded impatient, but clearly attempting to keep a rein on his temper. 

‘I... do not wish to be the cause of _anyone’s_ death or pain, regardless of who their parents may be.’ Ire gave her words a fluidity, usually absent in her address. ‘I should go down to the kitchens and cook my own food, rather than risk that.’ She tilted her head and tried to look him in the eye. It took courage, but the way his brows shot up when her gaze met his made it worth it. She had surprised him. It made her feel generous enough to add, in a conciliatory manner, ‘I will even cook _yours_ , if it is poison Your Majesty fears.’ 

The brows, having been raised in surprise now slammed down in a glower. He did not move however and Solace hoped that it indicated that she was in no direct danger. ‘I do not _fear_ poison, Lady.’ He snarled, ‘Many a fool has tried it over many centuries, and succeeded only in having their necks stretched on Hanging day. Herbs that would chase the light out of _your_ pretty eyes have no effect on me.’ 

Solace found, that having met his gaze once, of her own volition, it was now difficult to look away. They were the general shape of a human’s eye, even if the colours were decidedly odd. He looked genuinely baffled, as though he were trying to fathom her out. Was she such a mystery to him, could the beast not comprehend the will of a woman? 

The Queen swallowed, uncomfortable, and glanced to the empty table where the food taster had sat. 

‘Perhaps...perhaps a compromise then, husband.’ She softened her voice, as she had often done with her father when he was fractious after strong drink. Solace had kept hives of bees and never been stung by them, she knew well that gentle ways worked better with some creatures. ‘It seems that the food on _this_ table has already been tested, it would be a shame to insult the skill of your cook. May I...may I go down to the kitchens, to see if there is a solution that will suit, instead? I should not like to starve, but this situation cannot stand, I could not possibly swallow a meal, thinking of that poor boy.’ 

Vladilen stared at her. ‘I will send for the cook. You need not go to her.’ He reached out an arm to her, to lead her back to the table, she recognised his capitulation for the significant thing it was, from what she had heard from the talkative Gul, few had bargained with him, successfully, before. She lightly laid her hand on his velvet sleeve, deliberately not thinking about the scaled skin that, she knew, lay beneath. 

He had accepted the compromise. It was enough for now. Her husband may walk and talk like a man, but perhaps it was too much to expect that he have the compassion of one- Solace was grateful, for a moment, that he was willing to listen and allow her her own conscience, even if he did not have one himself. 

He led her back to her chair, seeing her seated comfortably before returning to his own high backed chair. Had he been any other man, or even a man at all, she might have smiled at him in thanks. As it was she inclined her head, receiving a terse nod from the king. 

It was so strange, this careful civility, when not so many days ago, she had been afraid enough of what might happen to her in this place that she had been willing to take her own life. How surprised she would have been, to be told then that the Dragon King would sit down and eat at a table like a real person, when she had been petrified that the mythical monster might devour her whole. 

Vladilen picked up a fork and speared a piece of fruit. He called to the servants to return and beckoned a server over. 

‘The Queen desires that the boy be dismissed. The cook is to wait upon Her Majesty once we are finished here. In the Great Tower, I think.’ 

It was not much, but it was hopeful; Solace smiled. 


	13. Strength of the Gentle

The cook, as it turned out, resolved the issue of trust before Solace even opened her mouth. The plump, sobbing woman, having heard of the Queen’s decree, had cast herself on her ample stomach before Her Majesty and sworn fealty. 

‘And no one, my lady, not one will sneak anything past me! I’ll test all your food myself in gratitude for such compassion. I’ll be as vigilant now, my Queen, as ever I was when my dear lad was taking the food first. Ye’ll have my undying loyalty, I promise ye that.’

It was a strange thing, how a little kindness on the part of a mere lady could spread and grow until it proved as powerful as any mighty deed done with sword or strength. Those who saw Solace about the castle, always followed by a few guards and a maid, bowed low as she walked by. The little Queen from the South was an object of curiosity at first, and even a little fear. As the days passed however and the weather began to cool until a morning frost coated the trees of the forests, each little kindness and thoughtful gesture began to earn Solace that most elusive of boons, respect. She had, one morning, taken off her own fur lined cloak from her shoulders to drape gently about the shivering form of an elderly woman, who sat, every market day begging for alms. The crone, who had once served as a fine horsewoman in the stables, was now lame and unable to walk. Gul, holding herself responsible for telling the Queen the life’s tale of every person who set foot within the castle walls, had told the story of the crippled old woman only at Solace’s bidding. Having seen her begging for so long, to Gul she was as noticeable as the huge stones that made up the Whitecastle walls. 

Of Vladilen, her husband, she saw little, he had nodded tersely when she kindly dismissed the cook but had not commented upon the resolution. They dined together every evening, having very little conversation and she sat by his side during public appearances, taking his arm on the rare occasion that he proffered it. He did not precisely _avoid_ the young Queen, but his reticence in her company was so at odds with his forward, domineering manner when he had brought her to his kingdom, that Solace found herself bewildered. He seemed to have taken her to wife for no other reason than to have someone to eat with and lavish gifts upon. Often when returned to her tower, she would find soft cloaks, jewels and once, a stack of carefully tooled books.

She had slung the books under one arm and sought him out then, finding him in conference with the commander, Yakimi, and the Wiseman, looking even iller than when she had first seen him. 

Upon her entrance, of all places, to the library, the three occupants stood. The Wiseman bowed first, followed closely by Yakimi. Vladilen just stared at her.

Solace, feeling foolish, curtseyed. ‘Your Majesty, sirs. I would beg a moment with my husband, if you please.’’ 

‘Come then.’ said the King immediately, gesturing to the seat that he had just vacated. Yakimi took the Wiseman by the elbow and led him swiftly him out through the library door, closing it behind him. Solace felt sorry for the poor blind man, who seemed to be hurried from her presence whenever she was near.

‘Is aught amiss?’ Vladilen asked, after seeing her seated. Solace carefully put the precious books on the low table that stood between them and looked at him.

She had forced herself, over time, to look at him without flinching, and could now do so with a little more ease. He remained as horribly scaled and monstrous as when she had first seen him but perseverance had ever been a characteristic that Solace possessed. Having decided to herself that the surest way to receive enough liberty to escape, must be to coax kindness from a beast, she had treated him as she would treat any other dangerous animal that crossed her path. She soothed, she spoke softly and she looked him in the eye. She did so now.

‘It is these books, sir. I...I am greatly honoured that you should leave them for me, but...I fear I would not be able to make use of them. Although I thank you, truly, for the thought.’ 

Vladilen had been staring at her as though he would read her in the same way he might study an ancient text. He did not seem upset that his wife scorned his gift, merely shrugging lightly and picking up the topmost tome. His hands looked strange against the intricate patterns of the dark green leather, as jarring an image as a horse sitting down to supper. He opened it to the first page and smoothed it down gently, softly, with the palm of his hand. 

‘You do not care for them, I shall not force them upon you.’ His voice was a murmur, there was little of the roughness that she heard when he gave orders or made declarations. Solace realised that moment, that this was how he always spoke to her, when they were alone, it had little to do with her coaxing an animal to tameness, he had already chosen to soothe _her_ it would seem. 

She smiled uncertainly, relieved. ‘You do not wish that I should learn, then?’ she flicked a hand towards the books, ‘It was not a...hint, a _polite_ decree.’ Even as she said the words they sounded ridiculous to her ears, the Dragon King was not the hinting sort of ruler. 

There was a knowing gleam in his eye. ‘‘Learn? No. I hoped that they might please you, apparently my judgement was out.’ He said, unconcerned. ‘You may learn whatever you wish to, there are other books here and they are at your disposal.’

Solace floundered. She was not a fool, however often she felt like one. She _knew_ that it was a very great honour to be given a book, let alone several. Each volume took a learned man many seasons of intense dedication to complete, she understood what treasures her husband had offered her. General Barrot had owned two books, they were kept on a special shelf away from the fireplaces in silver boxes. The Benedictor had granted them to the General after many years of loyal service, Solace had dusted them with the lightest of hand, having never seen one before and afraid of damaging them.

‘Vladilen,’ she whispered, distressed. ‘I was a peasant, a _huntsman’s daughter_ in a village of no great wealth- the only time I saw a book was when I went to Ocean City...’ she stared at him, willing him to understand what she was too ashamed to say. 

She saw the moment that understanding dawned on him. She did not quite know why it bothered her that he might think her as ignorant as she was, she did not entirely believe that it was fear of him. His manner toward her had been constant in that it was without violence, she did not believe it would change so easily.

He blinked and stood, wandering over to the window and looking out. After some moments, he spoke. 

‘I have been under a misapprehension regarding you, I fear. I heard the Benedictor mention a General, and assumed that you were his child, as a person of some rank...’ he tailed off, waving a claw in an abortive gesture. 

Solace sat still in her chair, she stared at the books, hating them and feeling shamed. It was not her fault that he had thought her greater than she was, it was _his_ assumption. How could _she_ have learnt to read? She who had been taught limited counting skills by her father, and that only as a matter of trade. It made sense to her now, she was a part of the victors spoils, a supposedly higher rank of female to claim as bride.

‘Oh. That explains why you wed me then.’

He had been staring at the view, her tower from the looks of it, but started a little at her words.

‘Explains _what_ precisely, Solace?’ he said, sharply, his attention now arrested on her face.

‘You thought I was the daughter of the General, you wanted a wife of rank... I suppose.’ 

Vladien huffed out an incredulous laugh and turned back into the room, standing over her chair. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, stilling her when she tried to rise.

‘It explains nothing, lady wife. I did not go to the trouble of a war on account of some strange notion of wedding a _lady_ , there used to be a few of them in the North and they never appealed to me, not even when I was young.’ 

Solace pressed her lips together, frowning.

‘What is it?’

‘Then I understand even _less_ why you should have wanted to marry me, Vladilen. I brought neither wealth, nor learning, nor strength in battle nor even any great beauty. I am no one of _any_ significance and would have lived my whole life unnoticed and content enough with my lot.’

Vladilen took her hand and crouched by her chair. Even stooped his face was level with hers, and he studied her carefully. She squirmed under his scrutiny. 

‘Your curiousity would aid you well in reading, should you desire to learn.’ His teeth were an array of browns and yellows, only the pointed tips were the colour of milk, it made for an unpleasant effect when he tried to smile. ‘It matters not that you were born a peasant, I would have come to the South for you regardless. It was prophesied that you would be Queen, that I should take you to wife.’

‘Prophesied?’ she repeated skeptically,then adding in a more neutral tone, ‘do you believe in such things?’

Again he let out a huffing laugh and bent his face down so that it rested on her hand. 

‘Do _you_ believe in curses? In beasts that take the form of a man, or in men that are cursed to take the form of a monster? It is a strange land we live in, my Solace, that such strange things should be- but indeed it is so.’

Solace considered this. Had she become so used to him, in such a short time that it had escaped her mind that he himself was evidence of the unnatural? He was right, of course stranger things had happened. 

‘A prophecy then.’ She agreed. ‘In what manner, how can you be so sure that it is I who was spoken of? It seems unlikely, I am no heroine, not like in the tales told by the bards.’

He raised his head from her hand. ‘It is _certain_ , Solace. I am as sure of it as I am that I am King.’ 

She did not understand him, but he sounded almost desperate and she pitied him a little, so she nodded and laid her hand on his. He looked at it for a long while.

‘Your birth matters not, little wife,’ he said at length, ‘ from all reports I have heard, you have gained as much loyalty and popularity among my subjects as though you were the daughter of a king. Even my most hardened soldiers are vying for your regard, their wives and daughters at a loss with what to do with their hardened ways. I wonder if there is some magic about you, that you can so thoroughly change the way things have been here for centuries.’

Solace blushed. ‘I have done little enough, everyone seems to watch me for some reason, and make small trifles a huge matter. I would not wish to change things that you do not want altered. They are your people.’

‘Are they, I wonder? Full of plots and trickery, desperate to either kill me or overthrow me and cowering in terror when they fail- as they should.’ His voice changed to something terrible and flinty as he spoke, turning just as suddenly to cryptic nonchalance in the next instant. ‘Change what you will, my dear, it is with that hope that I brought you here, after all.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who have been reading and also to you lovely people who have left either kudos or comments. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)


	14. What Happened at Sundown

It was a good thing, thought Sunrise, that the inhabitants of Whitecastle were so used to their odd ways for, it meant that little comment was made when the fire headed twins arrived late one evening to visit their grandfather’s abode within the castle walls. 

He faded fast, the Wiseman of Whitecastle, and yet still he drunk the drink of foresight with grim determination, he could not be persuaded to allow himself even one nights rest. Sunrise had finally worn him down enough, one dark evening, to tell her _why_. Sunset had gone out, ostensibly to speak to old friends and to buy provisions, but in reality to seek out a way to enter the Queen’s Tower undetected. 

She was guarded well, this fragile woman. Sunrise had never seen her but that she was flanked by half a dozen men at least, either that or her husband- and even Tanwen would not consider such an instance to attack. She had watched her movements carefully, noticing her habits and favourite haunts.

There was a narrow strip of land surrounding the Great Tower, set about by a low wall, there was a narrow entrance from the back that led up the steps to the rooms inhabited by the Queen. It was a favourite spot of Her Majesty and she would daily walk; there long skirts trailing out behind her, accompanied by her maid- admiring the delicate flowers that grew out of the wall. Sunset had proposed an arrow, let loose from the battlements across little moat, driving deep into the woman’s heart. It had been a good plan, save that the only angle from which Sunrise thought it possible was patrolled often by soldiers.

The twins had thought hard and remained patient. It seemed that their grandfather had been entirely correct in his assessment of the Dragon King’s propensity to guard that which belonged to him, and to guard it _well_. The only possibility for murder was one that carried the greatest risk. They would have to cross the weed filled moat at night, and scale the tower wall into the correct window.

The thought of it made Sunrise’s heart beat faster. The challenge was an exciting one no doubt, it was what awaited them once they were within the tower that gave her pause. Sunset was skillful with a knife, truly- quick and accurate, with enough efficiency about her to not let the poor thing suffer long. Tanwen had asked for the bloodstained hair to be delivered to the settlement, a macabre token of victory. Sunrise grimaced, it was a better choice than the first request their mother had made, but Unger had made her see reason; a severed head was not at all easy to carry. 

Sunset had returned late that same afternoon, reporting that the King would not be visiting the tower in the evening, Yakimi had was to return from abroad with ill tidings of more raids on the mines. They would be in the library, discussing matters, until late. It had been a well thought out plan, Tanwen would lead an attack on the mines, thus causing a distraction, the Dragon King’s army would be stretched thin and if they seized their opportunity, it would keep the King away from Queen Solace for enough time to do their mother’s bidding.

Thus, at the dead of night, when most of the castle slept, including their poor grandfather, the two sisters crept out of his home with a coil of rope, bow and arrow and dirk at the ready. They took a longer route than necessary, avoiding the flickering light cast by the torches. Sunrise was the stealthier of the two, able to judge easily which walls would give them enough cover. They halted at the moat. A low light illuminated the window to the Queens chambers. 

Sunset kept watch for the moment when the guards were farthest away from them and sharply tapped her sister’s arm. Sunrise tied the rope to her arrow and let loose a shaft in the direction of the window. It embedded itself securely into the wooden sill.

Sunset, allowing herself a moment of pride for her sister’s skill, reached for the end of the rope, intending to swing across and climb up but stopped at a tap from her twin.

‘What?!’ she whispered, caught off balance and tetchy because of it.

‘It must be tested, I am the lighter,’ returned Sunrise, ‘I can swing across and send you another arrow over the moat with rope. I shall go first.’ And so saying, without waiting for argument, she swung. 

Having landed as she would wish, she slunk to the darkest part of the shadows and let fly her bow once more, anchoring her end of the rope the wall. Sunset knew better than to have moved from her spot, the arrow landed beside her sister. They had been on enough adventures at Tanwen’s command to know each other’s methods, and know them well.

Moments later she saw the silhouette of her sister skipping lightly across. They moved quickly to the wall, Sunset using her hands to boost her elder sister up. It was not an easy climb, the stones were slippery in places, the recent frosts having coated them so by the Sunrise reached the sill where her arrow held fast, her arms ached and her breath came heavy. She swung her leg over the window ledge and dropped down into the room. 

A single candle cast its light on the sleeping figure of the Queen. She looked so young in slumber, and so unthreatening that Sunrise had to clamp down hard upon her conscience. It was not for her to decide, she must follow the orders of her mother. She approached the bed and heard the light sound of Sunset dropping to the floor behind her.

Sunrise grinned, hearing that she was breathing heavier than her elder, how she would tease her for it later! In a moment, the smile was wiped from her face for, at the very same instant that Sunset unsheathed her dagger they heard the clunk of the catch on the door to the outer chamber.They froze, dismayed, for too long.

The heavy door, thick as a mans arm, split in twain as the Dragon King came barrelling in, his sword in hand. He cast it aside at the sight of Sunset so close to the sleeping Queen and leapt across the room at her. Sunrise, having seen him first, from her vantage point called out a warning just in time. Sunset rolled across the foot, avoiding her enemy. The woman in the bed woke and sat up.

Sunset turned and fled to the window through which she had come, casting one backwards look to her sister, a wealth of regret in her eyes and leapt, dagger still clutched in her hand. Sunrise heard the loud splash as her sister hit the water. Her heart turned to stone. Her twin was a strong swimmer, but at night and with such tangled weeds growing in the moat...there was little chance of escape, even if guards did not await her on the other side of the water.

Vladilen Rutaxis had turned his attention to her now, picking up his weapon, and Sunrise thought she had never seen him look so like a man than in this moment when his eyes were narrowed at her and he was nigh on snarling and spitting like an animal. She dropped her bow and held up her hands in surrender. There was little point, after all in him gutting her where she stood and though he might hang her, it would at least give some hope of rescue, perhaps, just perhaps, her mother would think her worth saving.

The Queen, who had given a gasp of dismay at the sight of intruders in her room, had risen from her bed and wrapped a thin shawl about her shoulders. Was it possible that a woman could be so little and yet fully grown? Her brown hair, usually smoothed back into a coronet high on her head, or braided neatly down her back, lay wild about her shoulders. Her face was white and her eyes wide with fear as she looked at her husband.

Contempt flooded Sunrise, it was she who had to fear now and she would _scorn_ to tremble and quake as this little thing did. She lifted her chin and glowered at her enemy, who regardless of Sunrise’s weaponless state had raised his sword to strike her down. A beast who had no honour, it did not surprise her.

The Queen darted forward and stood before him. 

‘Vladilen. Please, _please_ do not.’

Sunrise had been bracing herself for the final blow, but now fell back in astonishment. Was she a fool? Did she not _see_ that she had almost been murdered in her own bed? How could she intervene, perhaps she wished for a worse death for her assailant? Even more astonishing was that the King, whom Sunrise had seen crushing the head of a man with one hand, instantly lowered his weapon and crushed his wife to him with one arm. 

Guards rushed in through the open door and surrounded Sunrise, one of them forcing her hands behind her back. Vladilen reached down to the bed and took up a large blanket, wrapping it around Solace’s shoulders. 

‘How could you have known? It is pitch black outside, we were out of sight of the guards, there is no way you could have known! Who betrayed us?! Tell me!’ Sunrise cried.

‘You think yourself in a position to demand answers from _me_ , woman?’ spat the King, ‘it is _you_ who will answer all of _my_ questions, by and by...you will _beg_ to tell me all.’ He turned to Yakimi, who stood by ready to cart her off to a dungeon. ‘I want the Wiseman dragged out of bed and in my quarters, he must have known what his precious granddaughters were up to, my patience has run out- I want answers. Fetch him.’

‘At once, my Leige.’ responded the commander, casting a careful look toward Solace.

Sunrise struggled against the men holding her. ‘No! He did not. He knew nothing. Let him alone. It was me. It was all me. _Let him alone.’_.

She broke free, and dropped to her knees in front of the Queen. Pride had no place in her life when her grandfather might be tortured for answers that he did not have. 

‘My Lady, We intended no harm! I swear it.’ The lie came easily enough, the tremor of fear that ran through Sunrise made her look directly into large brown eyes with sincerity. 

‘No harm?’ scoffed the King, blocking her view of his wife with his body, ‘your misbegotten sister stalks toward my Lady with a knife in hand and you stand there and state that ‘no harm’ was meant?’ He reached out with a hand and picked Sunrise up by the neck, she was a tall woman yet her feet dangled in the air. She choked.

‘Vladilen, please.’ A soft touch on his arm and Sunrise found herself thrown to the ground at the Queen’s request. What power this woman had, power to crush the whole nation at her word and yet she stood there so quietly asking for...what exactly?

Her voice was soft and low when she spoke. ‘How _can_ you explain it? I can think of no other explanation but the one my Lord has come to, but neither can I think of any reason why you would want me dead. I have not laid eyes on you in the many months I have been here. Enlighten me.’ The Queen had a remarkable amount of dignity, for a woman in her nightdress being held so closely to a beast. It did not seem to phase her that her husband had one arm locked about her waist and his other hand buried in her hair. Her eyes were gravely fixed on Sunrise.

If anything had been learned in the years with Tanwen, it was that the most effective lie was one couched in truth, there was no falsehood so likely to be believed than that. The question was, what to reveal and what to keep hidden?

‘My grandfather, the Wiseman, has been taking the drink of foresight every single night, Your Majesty. It is killing him, and yet he _will not stop. _He says that his loyalty to the King is absolute, that he will give him the answers he seeks even if it costs him his life. There....there is legend, from my father’s people, that a single hair added to the drink will focus a vision on the giver. That is all, my lady, all my sister wished for- to cut a hair from your head and to retreat without troubling Your Majesty. We thought that it might serve its purpose and that His Majesty might consent to grand father’s stopping drinking that awful drink. He only does it to spare us the Testing.’__

__‘And now your sister lies dead at the bottom of that moat because of it. I am sorry.’_ _

__‘I have never heard of such legend, neither has the old man. Why should you know of it and not he?’ remarked Vladilen, dripping with suspicion._ _

__‘It is written, Majesties. My Grandfather is blind and my mother only recently showed me the text.’ Sunrise winced at the slip up dazed as she was by the genuine sorrow in the Queen’s tone, she had not intended to mention Tanwen._ _

__Solace had been setting her hair to some order, gently prising her husbands fingers from out of it. In her hand lay several long strands and she wound them up together before offering them to the King._ _

__‘My Lord Husband, will you not give these to the Wiseman and let him return to his bed? I believe this woman, I have love enough for my own father to recognise it in another.’_ _

__Sunrise felt her gut roiling, bile rising up in her throat. Never had she wished so heartily that her tale was a truthful one. There was something different about the girl before her, who stood so earnestly offering her compassion to an old blind man and his undeserving offspring._ _

__Vladilen Rutaxis took the strands of hair and wound it around his thick claws, examining them in the light. Yakimi’s step was once again heard on the wooden floor behind them and the King addressed him without turning._ _

__‘Yakimi. The Wiseman is under house arrest, he is to be under guard at all times, you may take the men who stand at the bottom of my lady’s tower. Give him these hairs. _This_ little liar is to be put into a dungeon, until she provides me with the whereabouts of the book she speaks of. If she can produce the book, I will spare her life.’ He looked at Sunrise, who held her breath, and smiled savagely, ‘if she _cannot_ or _will_ not cooperate you will make her watch as her grandfather pays the price of her falsehood.’ Dread filled the red haired archer up to the very brim, she could produce no such book, and the King knew it. The kind hearted Queen must have known it also, for she buried her face in her husband’s chest and his arms closed around her once again. There was something like wonder in his eyes._ _

__‘At once, Your Majesty. What of guarding this tower, shall I assign extra men?’_ _

__Vladilen dropped a kiss to the top of his wife’s head and quietly replied._ _

__‘No, I will remain with her. I will watch over her tonight.’_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, do try not to faint in shock, two updates in a week! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter, I do hope you enjoy reading it.


	15. Snowfall

Overnight, ice and snow swept through the country. Paths that had been difficult before, became impassable, and treacherous to those who tried. The air seemed to become stiller and stiller until all Solace could hear was the sound of her breath. She watched it, visible in the cold night as she stood, wrapped in a blanket.

Solace had stood at the window of her chamber, watching as the sky became heavy with cloud and then blurring the air with perfect dancing flakes of snow. She did not sleep anymore that night, did not even try to. Vladilen sat in a chair by the fire, sometimes watching the flames but more often, staring at _her_. He did not speak, it was she who broke the silence once all the rooftops within her sight were glistening white. 

‘How could you have known, Vladilen?’ she asked him, quietly. She ran an agitated hand through her dishevelled hair. ‘If the snow did not show me where buildings and pathways lay, there would be little I could make out from this window. I can see, with difficulty, how a skilled archer could bury an arrow into my window sill, I did after al,l leave a light showing...but how could you have known that they would enter through such a high window?’ The firelight played across his face, in one moment making his features harsh and dreadful, and in the next softening them, making him more of a man. 

‘Come here, Solace.’ he said, reaching out his hand to her and pulling her to him when she obeyed. He tucked her head under his chin and drew his thick cloak about the both of them. ‘My eyesight is rather better than yours, even in darkness. I see further and clearer than even the sharpest eyed child.’ She felt her hair move, had he just kissed her hair? She could not tell. ‘There has been some trouble, in the eastern mines again, and Yakimi was reporting to me in the library. Ordinarily, he would have done so in the chambers of council, but I have found of late that the view from the library pleases me rather better.’

‘Does the library window not face directly to this tower?’ asked Solace, readjusting herself for comfort. Even if she believed the woman’s tale, the sight of strange people in her private room whilst she slept had unnerved her and she was... _grateful_ for Vladilen’s company, there was no one who would harm her while he stood watch.

‘Just so.’ Lazily he ran a finger through her hair. ‘I saw two figures skulking through the shadows without your tower. As soon as I saw one let fly an arrow to your window I rushed hither. I was just in time.’

‘You do not believe her.’ Solace said quietly, it was not a question and there was no need for him to answer, so he remained silent. ‘Will you not tell me more of the Wiseman, husband? I cannot sleep and I should like to know a little more. Perhaps I do not know enough to make a judgement, for his granddaughter certainly seemed sincere to me.’

Vladilen’s arms tightened about her a little, ‘He is the last of a long line of seers and I have known many of them. I knew his great grandsire as a boy and every descendant since then has served me- save his son. The gift, such as it is, is passed down directly from parent to child, only one of each generation is capable of wielding it. There is a test, the details of which are kept only by the Wiseman, it determines who is gifted and who is not.’

Solace pondered this. ‘Was it _this_ Wiseman who foresaw me as Queen? Is it _he_ who spoke of me?’ Did she blame the poor, blind, old, man if it was? Did he suffer still, on account of her?

‘Aye. Clever wife. Perhaps a year ago, he had a vision of you sat next to me in state, a beauteous Queen.’

‘And you do not believe that he was wrong? Or even lying? You said not so long ago that you were... _certain_.’

‘I...dreamt of you, of your face at least, and there are other things which make me certain.’

‘Oh.’ she said, then curiously. ‘What other things?’

He regarded her from beneath half lidded eyes, the expression in them undefinable to her. Solace noticed idly that even they were scaled and wondered if it made him uncomfortable to have such hardness near his eyes. ‘Heat.’ he answered.

‘ _Heat?_ ’ repeated Solace, not at all understanding. 

Vladilen lifted up the hand that he had been holding in his own and held her fingers against his, studying the differences. ‘I was not...always as I am now, my wife. Once, long ago, I was a man- still a king, still a warrior, but yes: a man. I was cursed. Since then I have felt no warmth, neither from within myself nor from without. I have been cold, for hundreds of years.’ 

He raised her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them, one by one. Solace swallowed, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. 

Her husband continued, ‘I knew, as soon as I came near you, standing so quietly in the line of maidens in Ocean City, that it was you of whom I had dreamt. I felt warmth, for the first time in so long, Solace, having become accustomed to the frigidity of my life- you cannot imagine what bliss I felt then.’

Solace thought of the times, that she had been cold, truly cold. That first night, having left her village, all alone in the shelter of an oak tree. Then there had been the iciness of the sea as it crashed about her, trying to steal the breath from her lungs and the numbness of her hands after the hard ride north. She had thought, sometimes, that it was only the hope of a warm fire afterwards that had prevented the chill creeping inward and freezing her very bones. The thought that her husband had known no such hope until having found _her_ seemed too fantastical to be believed. Too pitiful for her to even _want_ to believe.

They lapsed into silence once more, Solace lost in her thoughts of the night’s happenings, Vladilen frowning into the dying embers of the fire. She did not move off his lap however, and told herself that there was no reason why they should not both be warm in such wintery weather.

Gul entered the room, carrying fresh kindling, as the sun rose and roused them from their silent wakefulness. She did not at first observe the pair sat so quietly on the chair beside the fire, it was only when she set down her basket and began to sweep away the ashes that she realised that the shutters were already drawn back from the window and glanced toward the unoccupied bed.

‘Why, my lady! Where...Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Majesties.’ Seeing the King, she scrambled up to curtsey. 

‘It is well enough, Gul. There was some small bother here last night.’ Solace felt Vladilen’s shoulders shake slightly behind her head and smiled. ‘Is the snow very deep?’ 

Gul’s eyes widened, watching the lazy movements of the pair. ‘Aye, Majesty, and still coming down thick. There’ll be no travelling until the thaw, I shouldn’t think. The Commander was already up as I came across. He’s got men clearing the main paths about the castle, more’ll be cleared as folks wake up.’

‘Light the fire then girl.’ said the king. ‘The Queen is tired and probably hungry.’ Solace nodded, yawning in confirmation. ‘Have food sent up.’ 

‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Gul was swift about her tasks this morning, lighting fires and laying out fresh clothes for Solace on the bed. By the time she was dressed in a fresh underdress and a warm surplus that was the colour of berries, Solace felt well and truly ready to break her fast.

Vladilen, to her surprise, waited in the outer chamber, sitting with her to eat. Their silence was companionable and for the first time, Solace felt no awkwardness in his company. She supposed it could not hurt to be on easier terms with him, at least for now. Having looked out of the window in her bed chamber, avoiding looking at the moat below her, now frozen over and covered with snow, she could see the truth in Gul’s words. There would be no travelling, no escaping, not until the blanket of white revealed fresh shoots of green grass beneath. In the meantime, she would learn what she could and affect contentment even if she could not feel it entirely, it might, she hoped, result in a little less watchfulness and an opportunity for freedom. 

Once they had eaten, Vladilen told Gul to fetch the Queen’s warmest cloak and boots. Solace looked at him questioningly.

‘You must stay with me today, my dear. At least until I have enough answers to be sure that you are safe. I do not think it likely that there should be any danger, not with this snow, but I should like to be sure.’

‘Where will we go?’ She asked, tying the bright laces of a fur lined cloak. It was a favourite of hers, and served its purpose well in keeping out the chill. The animal that had died for its creation must have been truly beautiful. She winced, Solace did not like to think of that.

‘I must see Yakimi, the prisoner and the Wiseman. After that I inspect the soldiers. It may even prove interesting to you.’ 

She nodded and took his arm without thought when he offered it. His sword hung from his hip on his other side, his gloved hand did not leave the hilt. 

Yakimi waited on them in the library, bowing low when they entered. Solace found a low seat near the window, it did indeed overlook her tower and she fancied every now and then that she saw Gul busy about her room, tidying and cleaning. 

‘Your report, Yakimi.’ said the King, when he had seated himself. The commander stood before him, hands clasped behind his back. 

‘The female prisoner, who apparently goes by the name of Sunrise- Sunset being her younger twin, who perished in the moat, is secure. The Wiseman is...agitated...at her arrest and begs audience with your Majesty. He knew nothing of their plot, whatever it may have been.’ Yakimi paused and looked over at Solace who sat quietly listening, pity etched on her features. ‘I beg Your Majesty's pardon but...may I assure the men that the Queen has taken no ill from last nights events? There are rumours, it is unsettling for the people, my Leige. There are many who would wish my Lady well.’

Solace was touched and softly replied, at Vladilen’s terse nod of approval, ‘I thank you, Commander. I am well enough, save being somewhat tired. Your care is commendable.’ He drew himself up a little taller when she smiled at him, then deflated equally quickly at the Kings hard stare.

‘It is well then, my lady. I am glad of it.’ He cleared his throat and continued on with his report, ending with, ‘it might be, my Leige, that we get more useful information from the woman if we used...faster methods of persuasion, it...’

‘No.’ interrrupted Solace, rising and placing her hand on Vladilen’s shoulder. ‘Please, Your Majesty. I may not know much of these affairs but I know what that means.’ she turned to Yakimi. ‘You shall not torture her, Commander. I know that you may not believe her tale, but I do and if there is the smallest chance that I am right...can you not see how wrong it would be to hurt a woman who was only acting, yes foolishly, in the interests of beloved grandfather? At least let her be comfortable, Commander Yakimi, if she is to be held prisoner. Enough food, warmth and blankets against the cold, yes?’ She reached for Vladilen’s hand and pressed a kiss to it in entreaty.

Vladilen drew in his breath, capturing both her hands in his and not releasing them. Yakimi looked on at the frail creature who championed the guilty with such unbending strength in her tone.

‘It shall be as my wife says. Leave the woman alone. Send for the Wiseman, I want to see him now, Yakimi. I think that my Lady may have a few, _gentler_ questions for him also.’

‘Her Majesty is ever gentle, sire.’ said Yakimi, admiringly, looking at Solace. ‘I shall arrange for the prisoner to be as comfortable as possible, whilst she remains secure.’ He glanced out through the window, the snow still fell, swirling thick and fast about the Queen’s tower. ‘I shall return,Your Majesties, anon.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am very friendly, you know. Talk to me in that little box down there. :)


	16. A Touch of Pain

The Wiseman was escorted into the library, led by a guard at each arm. The snow had soaked through his boots and he shivered with the bitter cold. His eyes were swollen and red, his face yellow, and his lips tinged grey. He did not look as though he had long left to live. Solace would have moved forward to help him sit, once the guards abruptly left him standing helpless in the centre of the room, but Vladilen kept her hand firmly in his.

As the old man was bowing, Solace said lowly to her husband. ‘Will you not at least allow me to see him seated, he suffers, Your Majesty, from cold and from grief. Let me at least see to his comfort.’ 

To her surprise, Vladilen released her then, watching as she brought a light chair across to the Wiseman, placing it directly behind him and laid a cautious hand on his shoulder to urge him into it with a softly spoken word. Once again, no sooner had she touched him than pain shot up her arm. This was no one time abberation, it would seem. Vladilen scowled.

‘Did you feel that, old man?’

The Wiseman’s dark veined hands shook as he reached up to rub his shoulder. ‘Yes, my King. I felt that. The touch of goodness and mercy- for such a...’ He broke off. ‘I regret, little Queen, that your kindness brings you pain. I fear it is the way of things. Forgive me.’ He sunk into the chair, with difficulty and Solace crouched beside him, looking into his face. 

‘I forgive you, of course, I do not suppose that you have hurt me deliberately.’ Her brows drew together, ‘But what can possibly have caused such a thing to occur? It is unlike anything I have ever known.’

‘I know not, my Lady. I could guess, but that is all my answer would be...mere guesswork.’ He broke off to cough, a racking cough that left red mucous on his withered hands. ‘As is so much that I say, Your Majesty.’

‘You are certain of some things.’ Interrupted the King. ‘Yakimi would have me believe that you knew _nothing_ of the treachery that went on last night. What _good_ are you to me, Wiseman, if you can not tell me anything of use?’ 

Solace shot him a look of reproach. He was a hard hearted man, there was no compassion within him for a wretched soul, not even a dying one. It was the thing that made him most ugly to her. She turned away from him, to the pitiful creature in the chair.

‘None, Majesty.’ Was his reply, ‘but...I plead for the life of my Grand-daughter regardless.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Sneered the Dragon King, cruelly. ‘Such a devoted family, you are. Each begging for the life and well being of the other. It stands to reason that such a _close_ little unit might know what little plots or ploys the other is planning!’   
‘No, my lord, no!’ gasped the Wiseman, ‘I knew nothing of it. I have been drinking...the drink of foresight each night, as I swore to Your Majesty that I would...and each night I have fallen into fitful slumber, my girls were gone when I awoke each time. I called for them, but they did not hear me and now... will not ever hear me again.’ He uttered the last in such mournful tones, that Solace felt her eyes brimming with tears. This old, battered servant, had love for his grand-daughters, it was love she had seen from her own father. Was this how he felt? Did he sit in a lonely chair, in front of an empty hearth, longing for his little sparrow to return? Did he speak to others is such tones as this? Solace dashed the tears from her eyes. 

The movement caught her husbands notice and he turned to her. ‘Why do you weep, lady? Will I not keep you safe from the harm that this man’s family has tried to visit on you?’ 

‘You think I care for that, husband? This poor wretched man has lost one granddaughter, and sits before you begging for the life of the other. He might be my own dear father, in his grief. I grieve with him. Your Majesty has the power to relieve some of his pain, will you not do so? Will you not spare one woman? What _harm_ can there be in believing her tale, in letting them mourn together? I do not _know_ the woman, sir. She can have had no quarrel with me! What purpose could there have been for her to take my life? None! I should not wish to harm a strange girl who meant nothing to me, why should she?’

‘Did she not steal into your chamber as you slept, knife in hand, _supposedly_ to steal from you?’ He asked, incredulous.

’I have enough hair, Your Majesty, to not begrudge her a few strands. They could not have known that I would give it simply for the asking, I can see why they felt the need to creep in at the dead of night. And now a woman lies dead at the bottom of that moat because of it.’ She answered, hotly. ‘Whose _cruelty_ drove them to this, Vladilen? Who made this man drink a dreadful concoction that is surely slaying him, and for what?’

‘You dare to blame me, woman? You dare to speak to me thus, and before my subject? What courage has the little mouse somehow found! I have been too lenient, it would seem. Have you forgotten that I am a monster? Can it be that you have forgotten this _face_?’ It was contorted with rage and in his anger he lifted the enormous heavy desk that he stood behind and thrust it across the room. It crashed and splintered. Solace screamed.

She stood in front of the old man, protecting him from shards of wood with her own body- her hand reached for his and pain engulfed her as they touched. The old man inhaled loudly, his eyes wide open and swirling with darkness. 

_‘The gentlest heart in any land...’_ he rasped. _‘The gentlest heart in any land, the kindest touch, the greatest sacrifice.’_ Vladilen was silent now and he stalked closer to the Wiseman, Solace cowered away from him as he approached and he remained still. The old man continued. _‘A balanced set of scales, a broken wall and a curse crushed and broken. The Dragon’s death avenged and the hope of peace will return.’_

He coughed and slumped in the chair, worn out. Solace rushed to fetch him water. Her hand felt strange and numb as she poured it into the cup from the decorative ewer, wishing that she could wash from it. She felt...unclean. The Wiseman sipped at the water, grateful. 

Vladilen was silent.

‘Hush now, do not try to speak.’ said Solace, when the old man attempted to thank her, but ended up choking on the words. She waited until he had drained the cup and looked more at ease. She did not look at Vladilen.

‘I thank you, gentle Queen. I feel, I feel a little better. Fret not, my time is not yet, it is not far...but it is not just yet.’ The Wiseman turned his body towards the beast in the corner. ‘Your Majesty, there is some useful information that I may now impart to you. I fear that it may have been my last. It will do no good now for me to urge more visions, all that remains for me now is death. Were it not for my Sunrise, I should welcome it wholeheartedly. As it is...I fear I shall not see her again.’

Vladilen nodded. ‘You shall not, not if you do not agree to test her. I’ll not release her from the dungeon for all my wife’s entreaty. I will...consider sparing her life, if she will accept the test and if you will perform it. You are dying, Wiseman, I have need of another who will serve me as your ancestors have served me. With the other girl dead, I insist on this.You will return to your home now.’

The Wiseman’s face spasmed in pain at the mention of the girl who had leapt from a window, rather than face the monster in the tower. He hid his face in his hands for a moment, when he raised his head again, it was wet with tears.

‘Am I not...am I not your Majesty’s humble servant? If it will spare her life, my Sunrise, I will do this.’ He did not wipe the tears from his eyes, he allowed them to gather and fall. Solace thought wretchedly that she had never before seen a man weep so. The old man waved off Solace’s murmured offer of assistance, saying, ‘no no, little Queen, I may yet manage this much, I’d not cause you more pain than you already endure, not for the world. Forgive me, lady,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘it is a _black_ thing, to see what ought to be hidden, and I can only suppose that such evil as I have wielded quakes in fear at the purity of heart that shines from you.’

Solace, mystified by his strange words, assured him once again that all was forgiven and went to the door to fetch guards to see him home, asking them to see him comfortable before they returned to their duties. 

Closing the door behind him, Solace stood still, staring at the wood. The grain ran deep, the many lines showing that once, this tree stood tall and majestic in a forest, perhaps the oldest in a wood. She addressed the King, without turning from her spot.

‘No, Your Majesty, I had not forgotten what you look like, not for a moment. Your cruelty reminds me of it more forcibly than even my eyes.’

‘You still see your becursed husband as a monster then.’ He sounded frustrated, she heard his footsteps approach, and his voice whispering against her earlobe. ‘Can you truly have spend the night, safe within the circle of my arms and still you see me as _only a beast_? I am not an _animal_ Solace!’

She felt the air move across her hair, but he did not touch her. Instead he retreated to the window that faced her tower and sat down, heavily in his chair. The remains of the desk were scattered in the room and Solace turned from the door to see that he studied a piece that had landed nearby.

‘It is not your face that makes me see a monster, Vladilen.’ said Solace, softly. ‘It is your heart, where there is neither compassion nor humanity, that makes you what you are. You think you look like a beast and so you behave like one. That...that old man...he is every bit as hideous as you are, but for him I feel nothing but pity. For you...I cannot tell whether I fear you more than I resent you. How many families have you torn apart, noble King? I have been taken from my father and you would have taken all that the old man has left by _hanging_ Sunrise?’ She rose, all dignity and icy grace. ‘I shall return to my room now, the Commander will accompany me.’ she added hastily when she saw him rise to escort her out of the corner of her eye. Not looking at him once, she swiftly exited the room.

Once in her own chamber, she lay on the freshly made bed. The anger rapidly leached out of her, remorse taking its place and pervading her heart. Remorse gave way to grief and very soon she was sobbing pitifully into a pillow. Seeing the Wiseman so anguished over his kin made all the aching rise up in her for her father. She closed her eyes and imagined his dear face,now lined and as bitter as the Wiseman’s. The sobs turned to wails and she found, even at Gul’s distressed begging, that she simply could not stop.


	17. Ever Expanding Horizons

Solace did not know why, but when Vladilen strode through the door to her chamber, and finding his wife a shrieking, sobbing _mess_ , it comforted her that he wordlessly picked her up and sat with her, silently, as he had done the night before.

Solace fell asleep soon after, the hysteria gradually fading into the occasional hitch in deep, restful breathing. The snow fell silently outside. All was quiet about the castle.

She still felt low of spirit when she awoke, her head resting upon her husband’s chest. He remained with her, still wordless, watching as she rose and saw to her immediate needs. 

She returned to his arms afterward, not thinking too long about _why_ and felt some slight lift against the sadness that overwhelmed her, within his arms. 

‘For how long shall the snow come, Vladilen?’ she asked, wanting to talk of anything mundane. Any subject would do, so long as it did not involve death, or threats, or darkness or grief. 

‘For some time, until the spring. It will not be impassible for all that time. Perhaps...perhaps at the first thaw you would like to ride out with me, to the sea, I think. There are things in one of our coastal cities that I must see to, perhaps you will like to leave the Castle, for a day or so. It...’ he sounded tentative, ‘it may cheer you, to see new things. You have been in one place for two seasons, now. It would be no wonder if you felt restless.’

She could have told him, bluntly, that she did not _feel_ restless, she felt any number of things; imprisoned, horrified and confounded- to name but a few, but she did not. He could not know, for she had never told him, that hers was not a wandering spirit that longed for adventure or new places. Instead, she allowed him to believe that his guess was an accurate one, in order to avoid talking of painful subjects. She nodded.

‘I thank you. I should like that.’

______________________________

 

They headed west, once out of the castle gate, just the two of them. Vladilen answering her questioning look with his own query.

‘What do you expect to face on our journey, Solace, that is worse than me?’

It seemed reasonable, and it was said in a dry tone with a hint of a gleam in his eye, that coaxed an answering smile from her. 

The Queen had been carefully wrapped in layers of clothing, by the cautious Gul, before she and the King headed off on their journey. The long days of winter had bled into each other, cold, white, dreary days- for many of which she did not leave the warm comfort of her tower. She had been saved from boredom by Vladilen, who had appeared one morning, bearing a thick book and the offer of knowledge. 

‘You need not learn, if you do not wish to, Solace, but there are some books that might fascinate you if you only look at them.’ He opened the heavy tome, offering it to her.

It was a book of wonders, to her eyes. Every precious page, filled with colourful renderings of the flora and fauna of the Wyvern Isle. She could ignore, in her glee, the spidery scratchings of the quill beside them, revelling in the sight of delicately depicted nature that she so missed. 

She pointed out to Vladilen, as they sat side by side, the plants that she had grown in her cottage garden and the many uses she had found for them. He did not seem bored by her talking for so long of them, he seemed content in her enthusiasm and smiles. Where she told him the common names for the plants she knew, he extended a finger and pointed, with golden claw, to the word as she said it, his voice low and pleasant to her ears. 

By the time the first thaw came to the lands surrounding the White Castle, Solace had a rudimentary grasp of the written word. She had not ever attempted to write herself, seeing little need for it, but gradually she began to look forward to the mornings she spent with her husband. It got to the stage where she looked up, in anticipation, with a smile, full of curiosity to see which book he had brought her that day.

He was thoughtful in his choices, finding subjects that were of interest to her, plants, animals and the geography of the land were favourites of hers. He had one day brought a book of common tales, early versions of the stories that were told by bards who wandered through the village, plying their trade in exchange for food and lodging. He read her one, she looking over his shoulder at the almost decipherable patterns as he traced each word with his finger. All was well, until he read from a tale that she had often heard in her youth, one that was especially loved by her father. She wept all day and when he came to her door days later, she refused him entry. He never brought story books again, and she was grateful for his thought.

On the warmer days, she did venture from the tower, avoiding looking at the frozen moat around it, as she crossed the bridge. Yakimi had told her that once the thaw set in, the moat would be dragged and the body of the red headed woman, Sunset, removed. She had wrinkled her nose.

‘Is it necessary, Commander? Ought not her body be left to rest in peace? It seems...wrong...to move her from her grave, even if it is one she did not chose.’

The commander had politely and kindly explained that although he understood her Majesties thoughtfulness and, he certainly would prefer to respect the dead, yet His Majesty had informed him that corpses in water had a distressing tendency to rise up to the surface unexpectedly. He should not wish the Queen to be unduly distressed one evening as she walked to her tower.  
Solace, sickened by the very thought of it and deliberately not wondering _how_ Vladilen came to know such things, agreed.

Vladilen had arranged for the moat to be dragged in the time that they were away from the Castle. He wished to visit the most northern keep in the kingdom, known to most as Merrik. He had shown her a map of the route they intended to take, it would be a days ride there and back, but they would stay a few nights thither. 

This journey did not seem so very arduous to Solace, she would doubtless ache upon arrival, but the art of remaining on the horse had stuck with her, it would seem. Her husband praised her improved confidence in handling the animal, which pleased her. She would not seem such a poor creature, riding into Merrik, as she had done when she rode into Whitecastle.

He spoke to her, as they rode, their pace not hard enough to prevent it, pointing out interesting features of the landscape and of the animals that resided there. They had crossed the bridge over the main river that ran through the North, its source being somewhere in the high ground within a thick forest, when Vladilen mentioned to her that she ought not allow her horse to take her far from his as they skirted the thick trees. 

‘The wolf packs are now the biggest threat in this country, my dear. They fear me, and rightly so, but still- it is best to stay close. They will know my scent and avoid us.’

‘Were they not always then, husband?’ She asked.

His eyes were on the line of trees, but he glanced at her as she spoke. 

‘No indeed, little Queen. In my youth, Dragons ruled the land. They kept the wolves at bay, wiping out entire packs when they needed to feed. There were not so very many of them that it mattered, and the wolves breed fast enough that the natural balance was never affected. It is only since the dragons were wiped out, that the wolves have become an issue. It is why our settlements are so well protected, there are few who would wish to live outside of a safe city wall.’

‘Dragons! Did you ever see one?’

‘I saw many...I killed many. They were hunted for sport, a badge of honour if you like, by the warriors.’ He spoke pensively, and there was regret in his face. She saw it plainly.

‘Were they very fierce?’ she asked him, when the silence lengthened out between the riders. 

‘Oh no. Not really, they guarded their nests, of course, but rarely sought out people. It seems rather cowardly, looking back, for brave knights to lure them from their young in order to fight them.’

‘And they died out- hunted to extinction? How sad. They must have been splendid to see.’

He was lost to memory. ‘It was a thing of beauty, to see one in flight against a sunset, tail and wings at full stretch. They did not take to the skies in daylight, nor at night, but at sundown, they would speed their way home to their young. To look at, they were all glittering scales and golden talons, no more splendid to see than I am, I suppose, but infinitely better suited to it.’

He spoke dryly again and Solace let out a short giggle. He seemed pleased to have caused it. 

‘Thus, you are known as the Dragon King. I had noticed that you sport neither wings nor tail. On the tapestry, that hangs on the door to my room, there is a green dragon- were they all so?’

‘No. They hatched white, and remained so for a long time, until they left their nests. I do not know how their adult colour is decided, but I have seen many colours. I will find you a book when we return home.’

They returned to silence for a while after that, Solace coming to terms with the fact that her husband had _seen_ , had slain dragons. 

They came within sight of Merrik, a square keep with thick high walls- Vladilen told her that it had been built for safety, not beauty. To Solace, it mattered not a bit what Merrik looked like, for beyond its austere walls lay a thing of utter wonder. The ocean. 

At her excitement, Vladilen smiled and led them both to the highest ground so that she could see further. She was tired and bone weary, but her cheeks flushed with pleasure at the sight of it.

‘I had not seen the ocean before I left the village... when your men came. It was the furthest I had ever been from home and I was...despairing...of making it to Ocean City alive. I sat down where I stood when I first got in sight of it. It’s so very big, Vladilen! Can you imagine all the lands that it touches? Lands with people, families and customs that are different from ours. How _small_ we must seem to it.’ 

She stopped suddenly, squinting out to sea. ‘Hold! What manner of creature is _that_?’ Alarmed, she brought her horse to stand closer to his. Out to sea, further than any shoreman could reasonably wade, a great dark blot floated, something white streaming out above it.

Vladilen followed her line of sight. 

‘Ah.’ He smiled, his lips covering all but the points of his sharp teeth. ‘That, my dear, is what we have come to Merrik for. Boats. Vessels that may carry a number of men safely out to sea, to explore those distant lands that you were just wondering about.’ He gestured for her to follow him, heading into Merrik. ‘Lord Urboath, the man I appointed keeper of this area, has an interest in such things. He has been working on the designs for such a feat since he was a boy. I gave him leave to try and see if he could accomplish it. Come, my Queen, your subjects will wish to pay homage to your loveliness.’

They spent four nights, in comparatively stark quarters at Merrik, Lord Urboath was a pleasant man and perfectly willing and able to entertain their Majesties, but Solace found that she missed the comforts of her tower and more specifically the care of Gul. They departed for home the very morning after she referred to it as such.

Yakimi awaited them in the courtyard as they rode in, bowing low and going to the head of Solace’s horse himself. He looked anxious, but smiled at her, bidding the King and Queen welcome home. 

The three headed to Solace’s tower, the Commander clearly wishing an audience and Vladilen unwilling to let his wife go alone. 

‘Speak then, Commander.’ he said briskly, as they made their way to the steps leading up to the bridge. 

‘I thank ye, Majesty. Two issues of importance, I am relieved that you did not linger in Merrik. First, the moat surrounding the Great Tower has been dragged and cleared of weeds- Your Majesty, there was _no body found therein.'_

Vladilen did not reply, but Solace, walking the other side of the King, gasped out loud. ‘tis impossible!’ she exclaimed.

‘And the other matter?’ Vladilen prompted. 

Yakimi cleared his throat. ‘Another uprising, once again the mines to the east. We do not know how many have been captured or lost.’

Vladilen grimaced. ‘You will fetch the Wiseman and you will fetch the prisoner Sunrise. Tomorrow morning I will take a company of men and investigate these disturbances myself. Clearly, you did a less than satisfactory job of quelling the uprisings when I was in the South.’ He said the last in as blighting a manner as Solace had ever heard, Yakimi swallowed.

‘Forgive me, Your Majesty.’ he said.

Ignoring him, Vladilen opened the door to the tower and ushered Solace in. ‘You, Yakimi, will remain here. You will guard my lady with your life, you will see to my castle and you will investigate any possibility that the body that ought to have been found in the moat is now walking about my kingdom and posing a threat to the Queen.’ 

The door was shut behind him, and Yakimi was left standing still, very aware that should he fail again, his life would surely be forfeit.


	18. Opportunity

Solace’s first attempt to escape was thwarted before she even left the shadow of the castle, her husband had left the castle a few days earlier, intending to subdue the uprising in the gold mines that lay a few days travel, to the east of the kingdom.

The first day had been rife with indecision. Solace walked many times around the outside of her tower. Gul, ever watchful, had started by walking behind her, before giving up and sitting herself on a rock, her eyes puzzled. The Queen had intended to seek her freedom from the very beginning- to lull those around her into thinking her content enough and then leaving. How was it, that now, when there seemed to be opportunity, now that Vladilen had finally left the castle, she should hesitate? She carefully weighed up the consequences of her flight in her mind, would the Dragon King seek her out again? She knew that he would, the question was, could she evade him? Would he, as he did so often, sentence people to death because of it? Solace looked balefully up at the tower and reminded herself that this was not her home, these people were not her friends.

She paced thus, for an entire morning, her walk interrupted by Commander Yakimi who bowed low, awaiting her permission to approach. When she nodded, he glanced around him at the nearby soldiers and drew himself up to full height. Out of his line of sight, Gul rolled her eyes to the skies and Solace suppressed a smile. Gul had told her mistress of Yakimi’s boasts that he was favoured above all by the King and Queen.

He strode over, smiling and presented a folded note to her with a flourish. Solace, curious, took it from him and opened it immediately. She was conscious that he watched her closely, and flushed with embarrassment that he might judge her slowness in reading the missive. 

This was not the bold, decisive hand of her husband, but written by a stranger in clear printed script. 

_‘Majesty,’_ it read. _‘I sit here, in my cell, all alone with much to think on. I am told, by the guards, that the comforts that I have are given to me by your orders. When the wind howls through the bars of my window, I clutch the blanket around me and am comforted, both by the warmth of the wool and the compassion of one I have wronged._

_I know that by writing these words I condemn myself to death, I find that I do not wish to face such a fate without telling you the truth about the night my sister perished._

_My mother, Tanwen, has long been exiled from the cities of the North, it is through her own choice that she lives such a separated life. My father died at the hand of your husband, Lady, and Tanwen has made her life one of revenge against him. It is because of this that my sister and I were sent to your chamber that night, to sever your head from your body- thereby, my mother supposes, wounding the unwoundable._

_I write, your Majesty, not to simply relieve my conscience, which I had not known could smart so, but to give you due warning that such an attempt is unlikely to be the last. I will not, cannot give away my mother’s hideaway, but I can tell you to be on your guard and thus, in some small measure, repay your misplaced faith in me. I have wished often, in these dark days with naught but my thoughts for company, that I had been worthy of such defence. I thank you for it._

_The blood of seers runs through my veins, o Queen, before he left for the mines, the King arranged for my grandfather, for whom my love is very real, to perform the Test and activate the sight that has lain dormant. I struggled, but my lashes were ripped from my eyes and although they are clouded with blood, I see more clearly than I ever I have before._

_I saw your kindness and your compassion. I saw that because of these things, you alone are capable of breaking a curse even more terrible than the one I am now under. I saw also, an empty hive, and a dying man laid out beside it._

_I must end now, Majesty, Yakimi was reluctant to allow me even this much time to confess._

_I take this opportunity then, to declare myself._

__

__

_your servant,_

__

__

_Sunrise Wiseman.’_

__

__

Sunrise looked up at Yakimi, who stared at her intently. 

‘Have you read this, Commander?’ she asked, blankly.

‘I felt sure that the King would wish me to do so, my lady.’ he replied smoothly. 

Solace waved him away, to his consternation. The words of the prisoner, the woman who sought to kill her, echoed through her head. ‘an empty hive, and a dying man laid out beside it.’ Her father. The woman, cursed against her own will with foresight, had seen the death of her father. With that, Solace made her decision.

********************************

She had thought she would sneak out through the western gates with the travelling players who had come to the castle, when she had been at Merrik, seeking to entertain royalty. Solace had climbed into the wagon they used to carry various costumes and settled herself underneath an enormous feathered mask. Alas, just as she was congratulating herself that she was clear of the gates and that she would jump out of the cart just as soon as they got as far as the forest, there was a clunk, a jolt and they came to an abrupt halt.

The short of it was that the wagon had a loose wheel which had come off. Solace remained hidden as the cart was taken back through the gates that so imprisoned her. It was, at least, fortunate that no one saw her exit from her hiding place as they were all gathered around the broken wheel shaft.

The next day, she told Yakimi that she was desperate for exercise and that she wished to go for a ride. She wore breeches underneath her skirts and had hidden part of her breakfast in a pocket. If Gul had noticed, she had said nothing. 

Yakimi himself, a naturally suspicious man accompanied the Queen on her ride, they headed west past the great lake and then south to a thick forest. Yakimi assured the young woman that the majority of the wolf packs in the forest would have likely migrated to the warmer places by the coasts, he congratulated himself that she seemed relieved. At a particularly narrow part of the path, Solace gestured for Yakimi to preceded her, thinking that she might be nervous of what might be on the path ahead he did so. A little way along, something made his horse scream and rear up in terror, he heard Her Majesty cry out in alarm, and then there was nothing but blackness.

Solace attempted to squash her qualm of conscience as the Commander hit the ground with a thud. She did not pause to see if the man was gravely injured, but reached forward to take the reins of the frightened animal that had thrown its rider and rode swiftly off.

Yakimi, when he came to, was befuddled, but not gravely injured. He could not fathom what had made such a well trained horse throw him, he was also embarrassed that the Queen had seen the wretched beast get the better of him, like he was some inexperienced youth! He made his way back to the castle, it took him the best part of an hour- trusting that she had sense enough in her head to have remembered the way back to the castle. He had reassured himself that all she need have done was to find higher ground in order to have found such an immense landmark.

He was greeted with astonishment and no small amount of trepidation upon his return, word spread like wildfire that the Commander had met with an accident, his horse had strangely not returned of its own accord and that _the young Queen was missing!_

Yakimi turned a sickly shade of grey when he was told that Solace had not returned and that _the King_ had sent messengers ahead, warning that he would return before nightfall. 

With an unsteady voice, he demanded a fresh horse and ordered men to begin searching for Queen Solace. Whilst waiting for a horse to be saddled, he explained briefly to the men what had happened and directed them to the most likely places to look.

He took no time to eat or drink before speeding out of the nearest castle gate, he knew that if he was around when the King returned, to find his lady gone, his death would be slow, painful and probably public. If he was to return to the White Castle at all, it would have to be with the Queen, alive and entirely unharmed. If she had so much as a bruise on her snow white face his liege would not forgive him. He swore. He could lose so much from this one woman's idiocy! He could not understand how she could possibly have failed to find the way home from where they had been. There was no way that he could retain his position as Vladilen’s right hand man now, he would be utterly disgraced. 

He’d known, just _known_ that he should have ordered more men to accompany them on the ride, but she had appealed to his male pride- saying that she was quite sure  
that the King’s most trusted man would be able to protect her ‘and besides sir!’ she had smiled up at him anxiously ‘I wish for a nice quiet ride, away from everyone!’ Of course, such a gentle, delicate creature would not want to be around the rough, common soldiers- and would prefer just his company. He had swollen with pride and considered it an excellent opportunity to gain influence and favour with someone so clearly important to the King. If she was pleased with him, perhaps he would become indispensable to her- thus sealing his position of power.

Yakimi headed for the place he had last seen her and scoured the ground for tracks, he found the track of two horses and followed it, oddly- the tracks were placed far apart and headed away from the castle. Solace was travelling at speed and in the wrong direction! His brow creased, wondering why. Had she thought they were under attack and fled? Had she attempted to catch his horse for him and then gotten lost? It was the kind of misguided, thoughtful thing she might do, given his knowledge of her.

*******************************

Vladilen returned to the castle anxious to see his wife. He had not liked the necessity of spending three and a half days away from her. He supposed he was now so used to the warmth that engulfed him in her company that he had forgotten how cold, how dead, he felt when he was away from her. His men had been aware that His Majesty was in a hurry to return, the punishing speed at which he rode his horse and the fierce glare when faced with the possibility of delay made it obvious. 

The trip to the gold mines had been successful, the miners questioned and men stationed permanently to protect them should the rebels strike again. The possibility of another seam had been discovered and the King’s permission was needed to explore it, when permission was granted, not one but two seams had been found. Vladilen had himself selected a particularly fine nugget of gold to present to his wife, as a gift upon his return. He thought a lighter, more feminine crown might suit her better than the great heavy one she currently sported. He would see it commissioned, perhaps with some sort of floral design on it, she was so very fond of flowers.

Entering the great courtyard he found a frantic flurry of activity. He could almost taste the fear and anxiety pouring from his subjects. He raised a hand to his face, had more scales appeared? Was he even more monstrous looking than before? He could not feel anything different about his face. He raised a gloved hand to call a lackey to him. One man ran to hold his horse, another quivering fellow, approached him and dropped to his knees.

‘Your Majesty.’

‘Fetch Commander Yakimi and send a servant to inform my wife that I have returned.’ He waited expectantly for the servant to rise immediately to do his bidding and was surprised when he did not move- he watched the man glance towards the gate, as though willing someone to come through it.

‘Well?’

‘Majesty...My Leige...Commander Yakimi took Her Majesty the Queen riding at midday and...there was an accident and...’

Vladilen swooped on the man. In an instant he was lifted from his position on the stones by an iron grip around his neck and his eyes were caught in the King’s furious gaze.

‘Speak. Where is the Queen? Where is Yakimi? _What has happened?_ ’ his tone was even and quiet, but the man clawing at the hand around his neck wished he were a world away.

‘Majesty! Please! I will tell you, but I cannot...breathe!’

Vladilen dropped him. ‘Get up. Answer my questions.’

‘Sire, the Commander took my lady riding at noon today, four hours later he returned, without his horse and without the Queen. He said that his horse had thrown him and that he had been knocked unconscious. He thought that Her Majesty might have returned before him, but neither she nor either horse had. The Commander is out searching with seventy men, my Lord.’

Vladilen mounted his horse again. He signalled for his men to do likewise. ‘Where?’

A guard stepped forwards. ‘The Commander gave orders to comb every inch of the forest to the south of the Castle, sire, he said no more than an hours ride.’

The royal retinue swept out from the castle gates as quickly as they had thundered through them. The servant remained on the ground, clasping his bruised throat. He considered himself fortunate, he had read his death in the man’s eyes for a moment, relatively speaking he had gotten off lightly. He sprinted to the stables, rubbing his throat.

Less than an hour later, Vladilen had found the search party, he did not need to frame a question, the men hailed him and gestured towards a river a short distance off, saying that the Commander was by the waters edge.

Before making his way down the slope, the King pointed his whip at the soldiers following him.

‘Find her.’ The men fanned out.

Vladilen rode over to the river. Yakimi fell on his knees before his master and pressed his face into the dirt.

‘Get up. I want some questions answered and killing you now would inconvenience me.’ He dismounted, seized Yakimi by the hair and snapped his face up to look at him. The man had a grayish pallor about his mouth and judging by the acrid scent in the air had clearly been sick recently, whether that was from the blow to his head or a healthy sense of fear; Vladilen neither knew nor cared. ‘You will now tell me, quickly, how it is that my wife is not currently in my castle, at my table and welcoming me home. You will leave nothing out.’

Yakimi told him all. ‘My liege I do not deserve your mercy but I beg of you! Allow me to help in finding her. I beseech your Grace, I would see my lady safe before my life is forfeit.’

Vladilen considered. ‘You will show me where you have tracked the prints to.’ He heard a great shout from a group of men and approached them. One of the searchers had found a woman’s skirts hidden underneath a bush and partially covered with leaves. The man held the skirts up to Yakimi who nodded and said that yes, the Queen had been wearing clothes of that colour when they went riding.

He felt the King’s cold gaze on him and stammered out ‘Sire! I...I swear...I did not touch her...I don’t understand why...’

‘Be silent you fool. You have been thoroughly outwitted by a woman.’ He turned to give orders, ‘Send your fastest men to the Wall, no one is to enter or leave. I want the details of anyone who has gone through the gate since midday today. The rest of you will spread out and follow a direct line South. I want immediate word when her tracks are found. As dark falls, light torches and continue on...no one sleeps until my Lady is back where she belongs. Yakimi is hereby stripped of his position in my court on the grounds of negligence, take him into custody and back to the castle. Arrest his brother and any immediate family.’ The Dragon King smiled a cold smile at Yakimi’s spluttering protest.

Yakimi, knowing that his death was assured lost the remains of his wisdom. ‘I suppose I can’t blame the poor girl for wanting to flee the clutches of such a hideous beast. Tis no wonder that she so enjoyed my company above yours! She practically begged me to go out riding alone with her today, must have been relishing what little freedom she had left before her monster of a husband returned. Does she shudder when you touch her? She smiled on me.’ He bit out the last word, a savage hope rising in his breast that either his words would wound the inhuman monarch or that the scaly faced beast’s anger might cause him to kill the bitch who had lost him everything he had ever worked for.

The men around him shrank back at the snarl on Vladilen’s lips. A mad light shone in his eyes. ‘Hang his brother. Hang his parents, his sisters, his grandparents if they are still alive. If they are dead...dig them up and burn them.’ Yakimi seemed to realised what he had unleashed and swallowed. ‘You, Yakimi, will die the worst possible death I can devise for daring to touch my wife and crow to me about it. You will be flogged in the main square and strapped to the rotting corpses of your dearest family members until the rot seeps into your flesh and eventually claims your life. You will scream for death by the time it comes. I will keep you alive for as long as I possibly can and forbid everyone but the Queen to offer you the mercy of finishing it. When you are dead, your body will be cut up and hung throughout this forest for the birds to devour.’ 

Vladilen dealt a vicious blow to the man’s stomach and he doubled up, winded. ‘Which hand, Yakimi?’ The King’s tone was mocking, Yakimi looked up confused and received another blow to the face. _‘Which hand have you touched my wife with?_ ’ Yakimi dumbly held out his left hand, he had only handed her up to her horse with it and she had smiled politely in thanks. He had felt proud to have done so in front of the other courtiers. He had been flaunting his influence in their faces. Vladilen calmly took out his knife and cut off three of Yakimi’s fingers, tossing them into the river. He then walked away from the screaming man and calmly mounted his horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry its been so long in between updates. I haven't been well and life has been a bit frazzled recently. I hope you enjoy the chapter. I figure that that there are about ten people reading this now, which is lovely- say 'hi' in that little box below! :)


	19. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Its been nearly a month, sorry about that! Sometimes I get a huge mental block about this tale, and convince myself that I can barely string a sentence together. Still, I love it, in spite of its faults, and here's another chapter.

Solace was tired, there was no point in denying it. It was now too dark to see, even the light of the moon was insufficient to light the way of the horses and they stumbled and tripped, unwilling to move as she directed them. Her arms were sore from imposing her will over theirs, her stomach was unsettled from the guilt of it all. When she had begun this mad dash, she had not considered what she would do once she was away, had only thought of home and her father. As she got further away from the safety of civilisation, she began to feel the full weight of the journey ahead of her and the problems that she would encounter. She had brought no food, and was even less equipped for adventure than she had been when she first left her Jonas Carver standing at the edge of the forest clearing.

Shaking her aching head as if to clear it of such dreary thoughts, she yanked on the reigns of her horse and slowed the creature to a steady walk. She needed to think, and doing so whilst riding too quickly, in the dark, through a thick forest was no way to do it. Her husband would not be home until tomorrow, she had, hopefully, a full days head start- only he was likely to realise that her disappearance was deliberate. Yakimi was more likely to believe she had fallen victim of foul play or ill luck. Poor Yakimi, he was such an obliging man, she hoped she had not hurt him dreadfully by making his horse rear up. She smirked a little at the thought, Gul would like to see his pride punctured a little and wouldn’t allow a little thing like guilt to interfere with her enjoyment of it. Solace’s head spun with it, had she become so hardened in a few seasons that she was _amused_ at the injury of the blameless? Certainly, the man was pompous and ambitious, but that did not give her a right to be _callous_ , and what of the poor dumb beasts that she had stolen? Ought she set them loose? Perhaps instinct would guide them safely home before they starved to death under her care.

For now, rest was what she needed, preferably under shelter, the wind blew icily about her ears and her chin and cheeks tingled with the cold that was setting in as the bright moon rose higher in the sky. She began to look about her, shuddering both with cold and fright when she heard the distant howls of a wolf pack in the trees. Hearing the howls made her think of her husband, briefly she wished for him with her before she reminded herself that he was more of a monster than the dumb animals who cried to the moon. She steered her horse to open ground. There could be no harm in doing so, not tonight, when no one knew to look for their Queen to the south. Good fortune smiled on Solace, she found at length an empty barn, filled with sweet dry hay- secure in the thought that she could at least enjoy one night’s rest before the chase really began she burrowed into it, having pulled off her boots- carelessly flinging them into a far corner and closed her eyes.

____

Solace awoke with a start some hours later, when through a gap in the roof timbers she blearily saw that morning star had risen into the sky, to the jarring sound of men’s voices. She heard an triumphant exclamation when they found the horses and wished she had set them free back in the forest as she had first considered. It was not long before a light was fetched and men appeared in the doorway of the barn, clearly hunting for her. She burrowed deeper into the hay, praying that she would not encounter a rat. It was useless of course, the soldiers had realised that their Queen _must_ be in the barn and began, doggedly, shifting the hay out of it.

Only she _did_ feel sorry for the poor farmer whose hay would be ruined. She shrank back into the corner and hoped the hay covered her. If that man with the lantern in the doorway would just move a little further in then the shadow would extend behind him, she could sneak past and make a run for it. Her opportunity arose when one of the men shifting the hay called for a light when he found her boots buried in the hay, she crouched low and got as far as the doorway- as soon as she thought it clear, she ran. Solace heard a shout behind her, she had been seen! She did not look back, she hoped to make it to the safety of some long grass, or a tree or something. Her breath came in short exhausted gasps. She heard the sound of a horses hooves beating on the earth growing ever louder. She stumbled on a rock. It was pitch black. She could make nothing out, the light from the soldiers cast the world about them into even deeper shadow. She caught her foot again and felt a searing heat in her ankle as she hit the ground with a thud.

It was over. She lay on the ground for a moment, just breathing. Her head span. Any moment now, the horseman would come to take her back to her husband. Her face felt wet with tears and she drew a shuddering sob as she felt the soft velvety muzzle of the horse on her neck. What would she say to Vladilen? Could she say to him that her heart was in turmoil within her breast? That she fled from him for the very fear of it?

Somehow, it seemed important to her that someone understand why she had run. Anyone.

‘I just wanted to see my father again.’ she whispered, hearing heavy boots thud on the ground beside her as the man dismounted. Her throat was sore and her voice came out raspy. ‘She said, the woman, that he was sick, so sick that he was dying. She said that her mother wants me _dead_ to spite the King. The cottage was in such a mess.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘I used to keep it so beautiful for him, no one...no one will take care of him now.’ And the dam broke and she was heaving great shuddering silent sobs and she buried her face her arms and just let the tears flow.

Gentle hands hauled her up from the ground, she was lifted up onto the horse and nestled into a strangely familiar embrace.

‘Solace.’ A whispered sigh.

It was her husband.

___

 

He hoisted her up before him on the horse, an arm securely about her waist, before riding the short way back to the group of soldiers gathered by the barn. 

‘Return to the Castle at first light. Rest the men, rest the horses. There is treason in my lands and I will stamp it out.’

‘And the Queen, your majesty?’

Vladilen drew Solace closer to him, she turned her head to rest against the fur of his cloak. His warm breath ghosted against her ear. 

‘What of her?’ 

‘My Lady’s boots are within. It is a cold night.’ 

A glance at his wife’s feet confirmed this. ‘Fetch them, then.’

It was duly done, and another man came out and presented them to Solace, saying, ‘We are glad to see you safe, Majesty.’

Solace, suddenly ashamed, murmured her thanks, before taking the soft leather boots from his hands and twisting to put them on, she winced as the one went over her injured ankle and by the time she had it on her lips were white with pain. She felt Vladilen’s strong arm about her waist still, and wondered when it had become so instinctive, so taken for granted, that he would not let her fall. 

Her stomach twisted and her shame deepened. She had no honour. She had named him husband and betrayed him, and his care of her, on the word of a woman who, by her own confession had conspired to kill her.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She rasped. ‘I am so, so, sorry.’

He tipped her chin up to better see her face, as he had at that first meeting in a crowded square. The light from the soldiers torches cast light on both their countenances, his eyes were narrowed and his mouth a grim line. He searched her face as though looking for something. She willed him to believe her words, tears leaking from her eyes at the corners and dripping onto his hand. Eventually, he looked away and held her against him once more, digging his heels into the flanks of the sweating, heaving beast that carried them. 

‘I leave you in charge, captain. Do not disappoint me.’ he said, as the horse moved off into the night. 

They rode for some time, Solace half dozed on the horse until the familiar, welcome, shape of the White Castle appeared on the horizon. No longer a prison, and yet not quite a home to her. She cared not, only that the sight of it meant bed, rest and her maid building up a fire to warm the room. She felt both hot and cold, and her hands trembled though well bundled up against the cold. Her throat felt dry and raw. Her head pounded.

‘Husband.’ She said. ‘I feel very strange.’ 

He tugged off his glove with sharp yellowed teeth and pressed his palm to her forehead. 

‘And no wonder, you’ve a fever igniting a fire in your brain, I shall have you home soon and you will be better.’

He kicked the horse to move faster and the fields became a blur to the young Queen. She turned her eyes to Vladilen, unmoving and focussing narrowly on his destination. Words tumbled out of her mouth before she could check her tongue.

‘I wanted you, you know.’ she said quietly, relieved to have spoken, even though he gave no sign of hearing. ‘In the forest, when I heard the howling wolves- I was frightened and I wanted you to be there with me, even though I had run. I think I wanted you before then too...and that frightened me more than anything.’

He did look down at that, just briefly before turning back to the path ahead of them. ‘You’re raving. It must be a powerful fever that unhinges the silence of Solace. Hush now, little wife. I have you safe, we will be home soon enough and perhaps one day...’ He shook his head, and set his mouth, urging his horse ever faster. The pale pink light of morning dispersed some of the deep blue of the night as they rode into the courtyard, the clanging on the cobbles announcing their return. The castle was awake betimes today.

He carried her up to her tower, allowed Gul to fuss over her, the maid almost in tears that her mistress should be in such a state. A healing woman was called and mixed up foul tasting potions for her to swallow. It was Gul, faithful, worried Gul, who held the goblet to her lips and urged her to have more, promising blissful sleep if she did. Vladilen sat behind her, holding her up against himself, largely silent except to, occasionally, issue terse commands to the waiting servants. 

Eventually, the servants quit the rooms and Solace’s pounding head lessened to a dull thudding, allowing her to think at least. She felt drowsy and warm, her limbs grew heavy. She felt Vladilen shift behind her and lay her down. 

‘Don’ go, Vladilen.’ She slurred. Her eyes drooping even as she fought to open them. ‘Tell m’ a story.’

The low thrum of his voice relaxed her, that same tone with which he read to her so patiently, teaching her, reassuring her. 

‘I will be here when you wake, my heart. And when you do, when you are well, I will tell you everything.’


	20. The Resolution

The days blurred for Solace, as though they were part of a fevered dream. There was neither sunrise nor sunset, only the shuttered room and the light from the fire. The only way that she could mark the passage of time was by knowing when Vladilen was there, and when he was not. 

The only voices she heard were his and Gul’s, both seemed to be pleading for something, but she knew not what. Once, she woke from terrible dreams of _nothing_ to hear his voice, frantic and begging and her eyelids lifted a little to see him knelt at her bedside as though keeping vigil. That was when she was most afraid. 

Whenever she heard Gul’s voice, it seemed to always accompany being sat up in bed and _made_ to drink thick, bitter medicine that was dreadfully hard to swallow, sometimes she could not and just allowed it to flow back out of her slack mouth, as fast as Gul poured it in. That was when Vladilen had yanked her upright and done something to her neck that made her swallow it. It was an awful experience and she had wept at him then, and tried to make him go away. She only wanted to sleep, calming, soothing sleep, but it seemed that everyone conspired to deny her.

When her dreams turned to horror and violence, she screamed for her husband and for her father. She dreamt of Pip’s awful death again, and that it was Vladilen who thrust a twisted sword into the boy’s soft belly. In her minds eye, she called for him to stop and when he turned to look at her, moving aside, she saw that the bloodied corpse was not that of a brave young lad, but that of her dear father. She dreamt that Jonas rescued her once again, but that this time he left her to make her way through a raging sea instead of a desolate forest. The waves rose up about her, stiflingly hot and thick. She struggled, but felt herself sinking into murky blackness, a shining dagger in her hand intended to kill a Queen. She opened her mouth to call for Vladilen and found that it was full of her own blood. 

She was woken, forcibly, by ice cold cloths pressed to her neck. The feel of them was sharp against her hot skin and she tried to jerk away, but Vladilen held her fast. Once she adjusted to the initial sting of the cold, they brought her relief. Solace twisted to look at Vladilen, who sat with his back to the headboard of the bed and her across his lap. His shoulders sagged when she met his eyes. 

‘It’s working. Bring more.’ he ordered someone in the outer room. 

Feebly, Solace reached for his hand. ‘Don’...don’t let me drown, Vladien.’

It may have been her vision becoming hazy from fever again, but he seemed to tremble when he leant down, awkwardly to brush horrid lips against her forehead. 

‘I will build you a boat, my Queen, and follow you around the world with it. You will not drown.’

She smiled then, tremulously, and raised a heavy hand to brush those lips with a fingertip. He caught her hand in his and held it there.

When she slept again, this time less fitfully, she dreamt of the forest and her little cottage. Wandering around her little garden, with bees buzzing about them, Solace showed her husband every plant and flower that he had ever taught her to read. Leading him about that peaceful little place, she took him wheresoever she pleased and did not once release his hand.

He was pale, as pale as a man with his skin could be, when she woke. She wondered when she had started to think of him as a man with a monster’s covering rather than simply a monstrous beast. Possibly when she first started to welcome his arms around her, or maybe, she thought dimly, it was before even that.

Gul laughed in relief and raced down to the kitchens as soon as she saw that her mistress had sat up, albeit it weakly and that the Queens brow was damp with sweat and her eyes were bright, but not glassy. Shortly after that, Solace had fresh bedding, a clean night rail and a bowl of soup set before her. Vladilen sat beside her and, after she had dropped the first one, patiently guided the spoon to her mouth.

‘Thank you,’ she said, once the bowl was empty and he had set it to one side. There seemed so much that she wanted to say to him now, and yet so few words with which to speak. He had looked away from her, clenching his fist, staring into the fireplace. ‘You told me once, that you were once a man, Vladilen. I think that you still are.’ 

He turned from his steady regard of the flames, ‘that is...a kindness, Solace.’ He said slowly, reaching for her hand with one of his and kissing it. The gesture brought comfort to her, it acknowledged her right to speak of such things, to ask that which intrigued her. ‘You continue to surprise me, although, I should hardly expect less from ‘the gentlest heart in any land.’’

She was confused, and wrinkled her brow in thought until she remembered the words of the Wiseman after the attempt on her life. 

‘You think that he meant _me_?’ she asked, astonished. ‘Oh no. He can’t have. I mean, I’m not..’ she broke of frustrated that her words would not come as she wished them to. ‘Vladilen,’ she said earnestly, ‘I’m not anything special, certainly not likely to be the subject of prophecies!’

He stared at her for a moment before unfurling the fist that had been clenched at his side. ‘Not anything special, Solace? No one else in all the world could have done _this_.’

She stared at the greenish, grey objects in his hand blankly. It was only when he, seeing her confused expression, unlaced the cloth at his chest and showed her the area of human flesh above his heart from whence they had fallen.

She gasped.  
‘I don’t understand, Vladilen. What has happened?’ 

He laughed, a relieved, huffing sound. It sounded as though he were much out of practice at it. ‘You happened, Solace. The only woman who could teach a monster to _want_ to behave as a man. The only woman who would look for the good in everyone she encounters. You.’ He looked down at the handful of scales, five in total and covering the whole palm of his hand. ‘I do not think it accidental,’ he added, ‘that the first ones to fall from me were also the first ones to grow there, around my heart.’

He stared at him. He seemed lighter, somehow, than she had ever seen him. She reached forward and carefully lifted a scale from his hand. It was smooth, heavy and almost beautiful on its own, contrasting with the frailty of her own skin. Its strength was evident. 

‘Solace.’ said Vladilen, ‘Do you understand what it is that I am telling you?’

‘You said that you were cursed, it must be breaking.’ she replied, still staring at the scale in her hand. 

‘Yes, that is what I believe is happening, but...Solace.’ he repeated, and she looked up, his eyes were intent and bright with something, ‘I need you.’ 

She listened, for once, to what he did _not_ say. ‘Vladilen,’ she started, gently. He shifted closer to her and lowered his mouth to hers, briefly, tenderly, then drew back. 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he interrupted, ‘it only matters that you stay with me. You need _do_ nothing, you need only be what you are; kind and gentle, it is enough.’

‘This is why you wanted me here, I suppose. The reason you went to war with the South, they who were once your own people?’ 

‘It grieves me that you have been unhappy.’ he said simply, he did not deny her supposition.

‘You have not been unkind to me, Vladilen.’ she replied. ‘How little of this I would have believed were I back home with my father! It is all so incredible, so strange.’

He took in a deep breath and said, ‘There is yet more that you will find even stranger, if you will hear me, Solace. No, not now, when you are well again. There is much to speak of it would seem, I must have answers from you also, little wife.’

He reached for her hand and lightly brushed it with his lips. She could not deny the soft sigh that escaped her and fell back against the pillows. He stood and went to the door, his movements were stiff, as though he had been sitting in one attitude for a prolonged period of time. It pleased her, that he had remained. Even with a kingdom to run, Vladilen had stayed to watch over her. 

‘Vladilen.’ she said, before he could exit. 

He turned his head towards her, a hand still on the carved handle, ‘Yes, my heart?’

Her heart leapt a little at that and the grateful little speech that she had thought to utter choked in her mouth. 

‘I...that is...I thank you.’ She mumbled and clutched the scale in her hand, feeling foolish for the blush that had surely stained her cheeks the colour of berries. 

‘It is well. Rest now. Properly, I shall tell you my unhappy tale when you wake.’

She nodded and slid down beneath the warm covers, but her eyes remained wide open, watching him. He seemed to hesitate and released the handle, crossing over to the bed and leaning over her. He kissed her once more and arranged the blankets to lie smoothly over her, then quit the room.

Solace stared at the door thoughtfully long after he had gone, fingertips on her lips. She, little Solace, of no importance, or strength, or courage, or greatness, had the power to break a curse. A curse that plagued the most powerful man in the land, it was bewildering, that he should think it her doing. 

She looked at the scale in her hand, it looked darker, blacker even, than it had when fixed to her husband, she held it to the light and it gleamed with a green gold sheen as she turned it.

What a dreadful thing, to have such hard, evil looking scales attached to you. Uncomfortable and ugly. It was no wonder he behaved as a monster, when to look in a mirror he saw one. With the people around him treating him with fear and horror, thinking him a foul creature, how dreadful it must have been. She would not wish it one anyone. Perhaps the curse, with all its power, had pervaded his heart too, making him as hard and impenetrable as his skin. Her heart ached with pity for the man who had tried so hard to show her tenderness, tenderness that ran against his nature. 

He had seemed so pleased, she thought, to lose five of these dreadful things, to be rid of them, what joy might he feel to be free of them all? Joy, she decided suddenly, that she would feel also, to have done something so good, so worthy, as to set him free. 

She closed her eyes, tired and worn out but full of purpose. Her chest itched and she scratched at it absent mindedly. She would listen, with an open mind, to his story, to find out, if she could what more she could do for him. If it could be done, if she, Solace, _could_ do it...she would break his curse in its entirety and leave him free to be a man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20! Goodness. I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter is one I am a little daunted about getting written, it is from Vladilen's point of view and will fill in a hefty bit of background. I'm beginning to think there is no way I'll get this story done in under 50 thousand words, maybe we'll still be here by Christmas?!


	21. The Dragon's Revenge

Vladilen Rutaxis mounted the stone steps of the tower. The Queens tower, as the people called it now. Inwardly he shook his head in disbelief. For centuries, even since this stronghold of power and might had been built, it had been known as ‘The Great Tower,’ yet within three short  seasons the tiny little creature that lay abed within it, had altered that particular tradition.   
  
It was the fact that she did unknowingly, so very artless in her innocence, that made him shake his head in bewilderment.   
  
He hoped, in spite of himself, that she was still asleep when he pushed open the heavy door. A sharp glance at the maid who sat stitching by the window told him otherwise. The girl rose at his entrance and curtseyed low, with quick, quietly spoken words she answered his silent question.  
  
‘My lady is awake, Majesty. She has eaten a little soup and drunk a good deal of water and is now sat up. The Queen seems well, surprisingly well given that only a few days ago we thought...’ wisely she did not continue but moved to the door to scratch on it.   
  
‘Come in!’ sang the light, soft voice that he had grown so addicted to. The maid opened the door and in he walked.  
  
‘Vladilen!’ smiled his Solace. She had been so well named. The Queen was sat up in bed, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and looking as the maid had said, surprisingly very well indeed. Her skin, which only yesterday had been sallow and sickly was now clear, a rose of colour in each fair cheek.  He looked narrowly at her.  
  
‘You look better.’ he said, ‘your fever is gone?’ He pressed a hand to her forehead, it was cool to the touch. The colour must be that of good health then and not, as he feared, a sign of more illness. _Incredible_.

 

She scratched at her chest, and held out her other hand to him. ‘I feel well, husband, better than ever before, in fact. I am not tired, I am not cold, I am as healthy as ever I was in the forest. I do not quite understand it, but it matters not.’ she sobered and squeezed his hand. ‘You <i>are</i> here to tell me your story, are you not? I have been thinking on it since I woke up this morning.’  
  
He nodded. So often it had felt to him that his wife would have been well named ‘Silence’, on account of the dearth of words he could prise out of her. He knew that her reluctance to speak to him was largely due to fear and hatred, as much as such a gentle little thing <i>could</i> feel hatred. To hear her speak to him so cheerfully, so free from the careful respect which usually pervaded her carefully chosen words, was a balm to him.   
  
He sat on the low chair beside her bed and did not relinquish his hold on her hand. The warmth that flooded him at her touch was a delightful thing. He had found that her mere presence made the cold of his life bearable, but to actually <i>touch</i> her was like standing before a crackling fire, to be bathed in warmth was bliss.   
She drew in a sharp breath suddenly and looked down at his hand. ‘It’s changing.’ she remarked. He nodded once again, distracted by the gentle stroking of her other hand on the smooth patch of skin where there had once been a dew claw. He had woken in the morning to find his hand looking more like the hand he had been born with and had stared, much moved, at it until Unger had come to him for orders.   
  
There was much to be done before he could allow himself the luxury of going to Solace. He longed to unburden himself to her, to tell her the history, the truth of what had happened, decades before she had even been born. He grimaced. Things were greatly amiss in his castle. Instead of the deeply ingrained sense of order that he was used to, chaos was rife. Not only had the traitor Yakimi, allowed, even aided, the Queen to leave his hearth, when anything might have befallen her, but apparently, the Wiseman’s grand-daughter had been broken out of the stone prison wherein she had been held securely for an <I>entire winter</i> and was nowhere to be found. He needed to ask Solace for the letter. Yakimi, under extensive questioning, had painstakingly revealed the happenings of every single moment the King had been gone, <I>including</i> the fact that the imbecile had passed on a letter, from Sunrise, to his wife.

So <i>much</i> was changing, most of it on account of the woman in bed, holding onto his hand and looking up at him with bright, questioning eyes. He was ready for change. Life, for Vladilen, had been a stream of cold nothingness for so very long. He would, however, keep his Queen safe even if she could break his curse, and if that meant he was run ragged trying to maintain order in his kingdom, so be it. No harm must ever come to Solace. He surely could not bear it.  
  
She spoke to him, perhaps seeing his reverie. ‘Will you tell me then, husband? Where shall you begin?’ she asked softly.  
  
Where to begin? Where else to start really, but with the worst of it. He looked down at their joined hands and allowed himself to think back to the time, so very long ago, that had altered so much.  
  
_____________

 

_A hunt had been called, so that the noble, newly crowned King could prove his worth as leader. The women of the court sighed in wonder at the young monarch’s prowess in the art. There was little else to do, for Vladilen, he had been taken on his first dragon slaying quest as a young lad, when his mother had been alive. That had been a quiet affair, in comparison to the excesses they all practiced now._

 

_Back then, the dragons weren’t so shy, so cowardly. It had been easier to find them, to lure them into battle, and more of a fight to prevail. It had been interesting, at least._   
  
_Nowadays, the dumb beasts had to be lured into the open, they were so unwilling to leave their mountain-top caves. It was hard to get to them, hard to fight them and nigh on impossible to do so with any sort of an appreciative audience, which was, after all, the point. Young knights were sent up to the caves to steal the precious eggs, whilst the great monsters slept in their lairs. After that the beasts would wake and pursue the theives into a more accessible clearing. Chairs and feast laden tables would be already set out and the aristocratic crowd, ready and desperate for bloodshed would be ready and waiting for their hero to slay the dragon._   
  
_As time went on, the excesses of the sport became greater and so did the scarcity of the prey. The wolf packs began to cause problems in the forests and the common folk began to be afraid to live outside city walls. The Wiseman of the time had attempted to caution the young King, that soon the hunters would become the hunted if the sport of Dragon slaying did not stop._   
  
_‘At least, Majesty, allow the ones left time to breed, they are dying out and soon there will be none left to temper the wolves that roam our lands.’ His advice had fallen on deaf ears. So eager was Vladilen to be called the greatest hero, the strongest King, that he soon set about the task of earning accolade of being the one responsible for wiping out the dragons. What praises of his might would then be sung?_

  
_He had been a fool. A King of fools. he saw it so clearly now._   
  
_The hunting of the dragons became a bloodbath, a mindless slaughter until there was little enough pleasure to be found in it- the beasts presented no challenge and the nobility would no longer come to the clearings of the forest to watch them die; the wolf packs were fearless now and had recently taken out half the court and its heirs by descending on them as they watched Vladilen cut off the head of a silver white youngling._

  
_How he had escaped was almost impossible to say. He had turned from his victory, to see the tables smashed, the wolves tearing their way across the tables and screams rending the air. Vladilen had fled, but had not learnt the lesson of temperance._   
  
_Only one dragon remained in the land after that. Scouts had found it in the mid-lands, hiding in a cave, on the top of a fierce volcano that overlooked the plains of the Sigili. There was little point in making an exhibition of it, the nobles that remained at his court were too cowardly to come, so to demonstrate his bravery he made his way up the mountain by himself, sword in one hand and shield in the other._

 

_The dragon, he found hiding at the back of a deep cave, a grey-green scaled female, guarded a nest of treasure. Vladilen circled it cautiously. It was an old beast, older and larger than any he had ever seen. Its eyes gleamed red when they opened. The dragon saw him and uttered a single shrill note, before curling its immense tail around the nest that it guarded._   
  
_< Vladilen made his way closer. He was sweating profusely under his armor. He could feel the heat from the firepit of the volcano and the breath of the dragon. He thought of the glory that would be his once the last of these creatures was dead, and lunged._

 

_It was easy. So very easy. A single, powerful thrust to the underbelly of the beast and it faltered, its great body swaying for a moment before falling to the floor with a last, sighing breath._   
  
_Vladilen felt no guilt, yet neither did he feel any great triumph, not in the way that he thought he would. There was no glory in this kill, because there had been no hardship in it. It was an empty, hollow victory. He approached the creature, intent on retrieving his sword from its flesh. As he did so, he saw what the monster had clearly intended to hide from him. Its heavy tail still curled around its nest, obscuring it’s contents from view._

 

_A single gleaming, golden egg. An egg that would surely never hatch now, not now that its guardian would shortly become colder and colder, as the life blood ebbed from her body. He sagged, and looked at the dragon. The light in her eyes was fading, but her focus was fixed, firmly, on him. He took a step towards the valueable egg and stopped short when the dying mother hissed._

 

_He would often wonder, in later years, why he ignored that warning sound. Why he had looked contemptuously at the fallen creature and moved onward. In a moment, with a sound so quiet, yet so dreadful that the breath was stolen from him, the last dragon of the Wyvern Isle launched itself at its king. The blood from the creature’s fatal wound covered him, gushing out. He was trapped underneath the weight of the creature as it heaved its last breath. He lay, stunned, underneath the animal, before a burning, itching feeling in the skin on his chest started and rapidly became unbearable._

 

_The King had no thought in his head, save that of washing the thick, cloying substance from his skin and prised himself from underneath the animal and ran toward the mouth of the cave._

 

_The ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble and quake as he fled down the mountain, the volcano spat ash clouds high  into the sky behind him. The King did not look back, did not turn his head until he was waist deep and tearing off his armor in the nearest stream._

 

_The volcano erupted suddenly and with violent force; Vladilen fled further downstream, half swimming, half running to deeper waters. The blood of the dragon had even found its way into his mouth, it tasted bitter and hot, but he could not seem to spit it out._

 

_He swam for some time, the river carrying him far away from the mountain, when his limbs would no longer aid him in his efforts. The water took him to a sandy river bank, and deposited him, gracelessly there. He crawled a little way up the bank and lost quickly consciousness._

 

_When he awoke, it was dark, and he was cold. His chest ached and itched, he could not prevent his hand scratching mercilessly at it. Looking down he saw that he had left deep red gouges in his chest, yet they did not hurt him. He concluded that he must be numb with cold from the river._

 

_Vladilen picked himself up and, taking note of his likely surroundings, began the long trudge home. By the time he reached the castle, he had taken note of several things. Firstlythat, although there was no moon in the sky, and the stars were covered with thick cloud, he had no difficulty in seeing. Secondly, that although he had pushed his body well beyond its usual endurance, he felt no weariness in his limbs, in fact, he felt nothing at all save the itching in his chest._

 

_He hailed his servants, and his men, who looked at him, as though astonished that he should be still alive and sent for the Wiseman of the castle to attend him._

 

_He did not sleep that night, for all he wished that he could. Strange happenings were going on in his land, most of  which seemed to be centred around himself. Messengers had brought news, that the great Volcano had erupted, and had spat out ash and brimstone all night. The ash had flowed, curiously, only to the North side of its face and flowed in a great burning flood until it reached the sea in both directions. In short, a high wall, of volcanic rock now divided the Wyvern Isle in two._

 

_Vladilen heard this with an odd, strange detachment, and gave orders that men should be sent to destroy the wall as soon as may be. The messengers looked at the Kings face in confusion and averted their eyes, before backing away from their ruler._

 

_Vladilen scratched at his chest, and sat close to the fire that gave him no warmth._

 

_It took the passing of many days and nights (with no rest) before he could  admit what was happening to him. The skin above his heart had blistered and formed hard, yellow scabs. After five days of waiting for them to fall off and reveal fresh new skin he abandoned patience and attempted to prise them from his chest._

 

_They would not move. The scabs, which daily grew harder, shinier and more scale like, could not be taken from him. The itching only ceased in his chest when five gleaming scales had grown over his heart where once mortal skin had grown._

 

_That was the beginning of a cursed life, for Vladilen. He shut himself away for nigh on a decade, allowed his country to be squabbled over by greedy nobles, permitted the poor to suffer the results of an ungoverned land, all for his own despair._

  
_When he emerged, many years later, the people trembled in fear and fled. A monster, a great scaled, hideous, ugly **beast** mounted the steps to his throne, slaughtering the nobleman who had sat there in regency. In his hands, terrible, inhuman hands, he held a sword and he fully intended to rule by it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not made of stone, and it is sometimes hard going to plod on with a story with very little encouragement- however much I love it. If you are reading, and if you like it, it would mean so much if you could let me know, even with just a little smiley face. 
> 
> Pretty please?


	22. Balance

Solace sat, propped up against the cushions of her bed, frowning at her husband thoughtfully. She had no words ready to be uttered, not after the surprise of such a tale as he had told. Instead, she reached out and took his hand in hers, the hand that was now shaped as the hand of a man instead of a monster.

She felt the pity of it, such a dreadful punishment for a heinous crime, yet... had he not paid the price of his error every day since? With such _dire_ consequences, including the scorn and hatred of all his people? The division of his kingdom, the loss of any warmth in his life until _her_. 

She did not fool herself that his deformity was the result of youthful folly, or even a temporary madness- there was nothing that could excuse him from what he had done. Solace believed sincerely, that Vladilen Rutaxis as a man had been every bit as vicious and cruel as he was as a beast. Still, she could see how much he had suffered and had a gentle enough heart to wish to comfort her husband, regardless of the cause. 

He looked down into her eyes, anxiously. His eyes had changed too, she saw, perhaps that change had been slowly occurring since the first day she looked into them. Eyes that had been cold and hard stared at her now with tenderness and a fragile, delicate hope. 

Could she pity a man who himself had none to spare for others? Solace decided, in the face of his amazement at the simple gesture of holding his hand, that she could. Her feelings and actions were dependant on _herself_ and not on whether or not Vladilen had any merit in him to earn the benefits.

There was a lightness about her heart this morning. Mayhap it had come from Vladilen’s trust in her, to tell her his story. Perhaps it was even due to the exhilaration of surviving an illness that may have taken her life. Her limbs felt strong and her spirit full of life, She wanted to be out of bed, walking about the castle, or even beyond it if her husband would let her. Solace swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

‘Will you walk with me, husband?’ She asked, scratching at her neck. ‘I would be up and about your castle today.’ 

Vladilen blinked and responded slowly, ‘I will walk with you, little wife, as far as you would have me accompany you, and yet...’and here he regarded her in puzzlement, ‘not two nights ago, I feared that death would claim you, that it would wrest you from my arms and bear you away to endless sleep- leaving me to mourn alone. By what strange art can ye be so full of vigour now? I cannot comprehend it, I have never seen the like of it, in all my years. It is usually the weak and the frail who perish, they wither away, _they_ do not grow strong and tall in the face of death.’

Solace, whose nails could not dig deep enough into her skin to appease the itching that persisted there, shifted her night dress to the side to look, thinking some bug or biting insect had taken up residence under her skin. She did so whilst responding to his query.. 

‘I know not, Vladilen, perhaps rather than seeking such answers I will simply be thankful for such bountiful blessing as I have been given.’ 

Vladilen did not attend. His eyes were fixed on the small yellow pustules that had formed in twisting swirls on her chest and neck. His hand dropped and his face turned ashen. Solace followed his gaze and sank back to sit on the bed. 

‘Why! What manner of creature must have infected me that I have _such_ a rash? I have never seen anything like it, yet I do not _feel_ in the slightest bit ill- how strange it is. Vladilen...you should be seated, you look quite...’

Her last words trailed off at the sight of her husband burying his head in his hands and kneeling beside her on the bed. He looked quite unable to speak, unable to control the trembling that had seized his body. She rose, alarmed, and fetched a goblet of water from a ewer that stood upon the mantle. Gul refreshed the water daily from the deep well that stood in the main courtyard of the castle, it was a luxury she had quickly become accustomed to.

He wagged his head, dumbly, at her and put his clenched fist to his teeth, biting down hard as though to inflict hurt upon himself. She uttered a low cry of dismay and leant forward, trying to prise his hand from his mouth. 

‘Vladilen! You must not, oh do speak to me! Only speak to me and I am sure it is not so very bad, not so bad as you think. It is only some insect, or some rash that will fade away in time. It does not hurt me, only itches...’ She coaxed him back to the bed and hovered over him, deeply distressed by seeing the King so undone.

‘I have.’ he croaked, eventually, when he had regained his voice. ‘I have seen the like of those before.’ He gestured emptily to the spots, his eyes, his whole face spoke of despair. ‘A balanced set of scales...oh my _Solace_.’

She looked at him, silent and concerned. Not comprehending him at all. She tilted her head in thought, the crease between her brows deepening further.

‘Vladilen.’ She commanded softly. ‘You must _explain_ it to me, I do not understand you.’

In response he sat up from where he had lain and tore violently at his tunic. The scales that covered him glittered in swirls of gold and green. Her eyes were drawn to the pale flesh from whence the scales had dropped off and new human skin looked soft and vulnerable against the hardness of his cursed armour.

‘Look! Look here, Solace, and too at my hand! The new skin that grows, that shows that this curse that has held me for so long is weakening its hold upon me.’

‘What of it, husband? It is a cause for joy, surely, and not this anguish!’

He gasped deep breaths, seeing how confused and bewildered she was. ‘When first I realised what I had doomed myself to, this life of ugliness and horror, these same scales that have been lifted from me...they began in the same manner as those that now grow upon you.’

Solace’s shoulders sagged with her giddy relief. ‘I think you are ill, my husband, perhaps fevered, to think that such a thing would happen to me. It is simply a rash, or an insect. I grant you, they do swirl in a strange manner, but it is simply coincidence- I am sure of it. Will you not lie down and rest, Your Majesty- I will call for Gul to fetch some herbs and...’

‘Solace.’ he interrupted, mournfully, and his very sincerity gave her pause to heed his words. ‘Remember what the Wiseman _said_ , my sweet lady, “The gentlest heart in any land, the kindest touch, the greatest sacrifice. A balanced set of scales, a broken wall and a curse crushed and broken. The Dragon’s death avenged and the hope of peace will return.”’ 

She was silent. Panic had started to rise in her. She scratched at her skin deeply now. ‘No, Vladilen. Ye must be wrong. Ye _must be_. There is no reason, there is no reason at all why this should be!’

He hung his head and glowered at the smooth line of his hand, where only last night an extra claw had jutted out. ‘There is reason, my Solace. The Wiseman, the one I consulted, when I first determined that if humanity could be lost, it must be regained, he told me that there would be a way, but that the way to break the curse would only come to me in my dreams. I had not dreamt once, not a single night, until I dreamt of you. The Wiseman who now lies dying, who mourns his granddaughters, he had a vision of you beside me, pregnant and I, I, more human than ever he had seen me. We both came to the same conclusion, that _you_ would end this wretchedness of my existence.’

‘And that,’ she said, wide eyed and open mouthed, something hot and ugly building inside her,’ is really why you married me.’

He nodded, just once.

Solace clenched the goblet of water in her hand and threw it at him. He was too surprised to defend himself and unready for her attack when she reached for the ewer and hurled that at him too. 

‘Ye beast! Ye vile, heartless, cruel...To think! I had thought ye worthy of my pity, I believed that you might change if you were only shown...you took me, wrenched me away from my home in the cruelest way, to inflict this dreadful curse on me? I, who had done you no wrong. How could you treat me so, Vladilen? To have given to me a curse so dreadful that even you, with your strength of will, have been desperate to escape it. You...you _coward_!’ and with that she seized a heavy log from the fireplace, already well alight and flung it at his head. He caught it, this time prepared for her assault, easily enough and tossed it through the open window. Dimly she heard it splash in the water.

She turned her back to him, the rage deserting her, and icily requested that he leave. 

Solace heard his footsteps retreat to the door, steady and heavily planted. He evidently paused there for a moment before the footsteps sounded louder as he once again approached. His heavy hand, the hand that looked more human now, rested on her shoulder. 

‘ _I did not know_ , Solace. If you believe nothing else that I say, believe this of me. I would have lived my life in wretchedness for ages to come, deliberately seeking no escape from it, if I had thought that _you_ might have to pay the price for my wrongdoing. The burden of knowing what you must suffer, it is a heavier burden on my heart than anything I have ever known before. Till now, gentle Solace, I have never known remorse.’ His voice broke and she shut her eyes tightly, in hopes that the tears that swam therein would not escape.

His heavy hand left her shoulder and he dragged reluctant feet to the door. ‘I must leave you now, I will find the Wiseman and seek his counsel- perhaps if I stay far enough away from you- far enough that there is no warmth for me, it will halt this dreadful thing. I am truly, heartily sorry.’

With that, he left, and Solace, perversely wishing very much for his comforting arms, reached for the tunic that he had left behind and held it to her itching chest. She walked to the window and looked blindly out over the landscape, holding the soft cloth tightly to her heart, as though to do so, could possibly prevent it from shattering into pieces.


End file.
